


The Library, or The Discovery of Heaven

by Descendree



Series: The Libraryverse [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Awkwardness, Blood and Injury, Charlie is a Bit Better at Feelings Thank God, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Awkward Smut, Fluff and Humor, Libraries, Light Angst, Many many books, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Plot Twists, Romance, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, You better prepare yourself for some serious book-gushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 59
Words: 174,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descendree/pseuds/Descendree
Summary: While looking for a place to spend her break time, Charlie discovers she has a library. When Alastor joins her during her breaks and the two of them begin to bond over classic works of literature (and some intense hand-holding), the unlikely pair quickly grows closer to one another.Things slowly but surely start to change between them - for better or for worse.
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne
Series: The Libraryverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083731
Comments: 1765
Kudos: 1479





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all started.

Charlie’s hotel actually had a library.

No, for real.

It was located on the fourth floor and it was inside a huge, enormous _beast_ of a room. It had antique, high bookcases against every single wall, but also more modern bookcases in the middle of the chamber and even those kind of bookcases of which you wouldn’t know right away it were actual bookcases, but guess what – it indeed were bookcases. Just what are the odds?

All the bookcases’ shelves were neatly stacked with books. All kinds of book, really. They were categorized per genre, or author, or color, or year (it depended on the bookcase, to be honest) and this unbelievable jungle of literature was a gorgeous sight to behold, even to those who hadn’t ever liked or read a book.

If, you know, anybody ever _bothered_ exploring this sea of wisdom and unread stories in the sinners’ hotel.

The library had lots of cosy chairs and soft sofas you could sink into. It even had a fancy chaise longue, a red one, with little velvet pillows and a nice little reading lamp on a wooden stand right next to it. The room was rather dark, since there was only one single stained window that was always covered with this imposing, large curtain that seldom was pulled away from its place, and the air was heavy with the smell of dust and old parchment. The wallpaper was classy, but old. Same story for the brown/gold-ish carpeting: very chic, but also old as Hell itself.

It was a shame, really. Such a pretty library, and nobody to dwell in it, to get lost in the many adventures that were just waiting to be read! Not a single soul!

Except for Niffty, who happened to stumble upon it during one of her many obsessive cleaning frenzies.

Sadly enough, Niffty - not exactly a bookworm - didn’t decide to start reading. No, shortly after realizing what magnificent dusty treasure she had found, Niffty rolled up her little adorable sleeves, wrapped a cloth around her head and started dusting off the books, polishing the shelves and cases, and washing that huge, single window with great vigor.

The library was freaking gigantic, however, so the one-eyed demon girl had to go downstairs a lot of times to get clean water and throw away the trash she had gathered in the meantime. She had to make this, well, trip up to the fourth floor at least three times – and Charlie happened to get curious when she watched her little subordinate drag that heavy bucket of soap and hot water upstairs for the nth time that day.

So she followed Niffty.

And then the Princess of Hell discovered her forgotten library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘The Discovery of Heaven’ is the so-called masterpiece of a Dutch author named Harry Mulisch. I’ve never read it, because it’s a huge-ass brick of a book and because I HAD to – so I understandably didn’t. On the other hand – the book’s title was _perfect_ for this story, so I shamelessly borrowed it.   
> Don’t worry, the guy’s dead as a doornail and nobody’s going to read that thing anytime soon anyway, so whatever.


	2. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie discovers she has a library.

To be fair, I actually didn’t really… _like_ books?

I mean, come on. I lived in a time where everything was fast and modern and available on phones and, well, the online world, so why the heck would I ignore all that and grab a book to get enthralled by a written story? I could watch movies and series for that – I didn’t _need_ a book to get away from it all.

Besides, books kind of scare me. Especially the remarkable big ones. Whenever I see one of those fat, papery boys laying around (it happens), it feels like those many, many unread pages are silently judging me for having the damn nerve to even walk past them. Books have this… stern, aged and uncool air about them. They’re just not very appealing to me.

But when I followed Niffty that one afternoon and discovered I had a whole effing library on the fourth floor, with this really _awesome_ stained glass window and everything, it kind of took my breath away, even if it was for just a minute.

Maybe it was because I was tired, maybe it was because I had never seen so many books in one place or maybe it was because of that – that wonderful window, with the apple-themed-stained glass, with all those bright and happy colors now that daylight was shining through it – but it was _then_ that I decided to start using this stuffy room.

…as a resting spot of some sort.

Managing a hotel for sinners and other poor criminals that deserved to try and redeem themselves was a very tiresome task I had put upon myself, you know. And since the hotel was getting more popular nowadays, it was hard for me to find a place to unwind, to… I don’t know, take a nap or something?

I mean, the minute I left my office and went to look for a spot where I could just have a time-out, I was always confronted with other hotel residents that wanted something from me, or asked things of me, or, well, just… kept me from enjoying my well-deserved break.

I needed a room where I would see nobody. No Vaggie, no Angel Dust, no Alastor, not even Razzle, Dazzle, Niffty or Husk – just me, myself and I. Let’s call it some me-time. Quality time with myself. Yeah!

Wait, no, that sounds pretty dubious…

Well anyway.

The library was the perfect place for me to escape from my duties, even if it was just for one mere hour. Because let’s face it, who, of all my hotel’s guests, would ever _think_ about visiting a _library?_

Nobody in their right mind would, silly!

So I did.  
  


**CcC  
  
**

The very first day I went to the library to have my break, I had to confess I had spent five to ten minutes just… walking around, gawking at all the books, the bookcases that reached the ceiling, the weird lamps and that great, leaded glass window. My god, I know I keep on rambling about it, but I swear I didn’t even know I had a window like that here! It seemed so out of place: a sinners’ hotel with such a beautiful window. Like casting pearls before swine, my father would dismissively say. Hah, oh, _dad._ My dad never was such a supportive person.

Then I saw it.

That couch. Sofa. No, wait – it was a chaise longue, if I recall my mother’s unnecessary French lessons correctly. A long, low sofa… thing. Great for reading, no doubt – but also fantastic for napping! So I walked over to the long, low sofa thing, plopped on it, nestled myself against the cute pillows (ohhh, so very _soft!)_ and just like that, I felt myself calming down in an instant. The quietness of the library and the slight breeze of fresh air that came into the room (since I had asked Niffty to open up the window just a bit) had a very soothing effect on my stressed-out mind, and before I knew it, I found myself drifting off into a nice and much-needed cat-sleep.

It was… well, at that moment, it was pretty much everything I was looking for and my god was I _so_ going to use this forgotten corner of the hotel more often from now on! 

  
**CcC**

  
In the following week, I sneaked into the library each and every day to get away from the hustle and bustle of the hotel, even if it was for just 60 minutes. I always felt a bit better afterwards, too, since I’d had some peace and quiet for a change, and I would continue doing my job more cheerfully after I had come downstairs again.

The library was always patient, understanding and welcoming. Meanwhile, I had done some research and I had understood that the giant book collection belonged to mom and dad, which was weirdly comforting to me. Like they were watching over me, since their books did, or something. Because of that, I got less intimidated by all those books as well. They were my parents’ things, after all. There was nothing to fear.

I-I know it sounds strange. But that’s what I felt. I can’t help that.

Nobody had to know about this place. It was okay to be here, all by myself, and just completely relax, doze off and fantasize about my many hopes and dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this collection of so-called 'Forbidden Books' - twenty books that were seen as 'bad', and therefore got banned for a long time. Naming the chapters after these 'wrong' books seemed like a fun thing to do, so expect more of them!  
> For starters, 'Brave New World' was banned in countries like Ireland, India, America and Poland for different reasons: some said the work was too anti-family/anti-religion, some got fired as they tried to make their students read the book and others even said the book was plagiarism of an existing piece of literature. Also, Fordism.


	3. The Royal Game (Stefan Zweig)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor discovers Charlie has a library.

My oh my, but the hotel had been pretty _busy_ the last couple of weeks, hadn’t it?

In a very short amount of time, Charlie’s endearingly foolish hotel had managed to attract at least twenty new residents (partly thanks to yours truly, if I may be so immodest) and ever since the big promotion thingamajig we did on that picture show a few weeks back, there were new guests dropping in the hotel every week.

A massive success indeed! Quite stressful, too!

Ah, no no no, not for all those worthless sinners crawling in the hotel like the useless pests they are, ha ha – no, it was stressful for our dear Princess of Hell herself! Poor little Charlie!

You see, she had to make a few… _sacrifices_ to make this dream hotel of hers work. For example, all of her money was pretty much spent at this point. Just… poof, gone up in flames, all of it. And she was too prideful to go and beg her daddy for more dough for this fantasy project of hers, so that’s that.

Also, her relationship with that testy mothgirl had come to a tragic, but understandable conclusion. They had both agreed on the fact they would be better off as friends than lovers and so, they broke up with each other. Vaggie would still be around, though. After all, she still cared deeply about Charlie.

Honestly, I don’t agree with that Vaggie person most of the time (oh, heavens no!), but she and Charlie were right to end things. Mothgirl was gloomy, had quite a temperament and was ridiculously easy to irritate, while Charlie was all rainbows and sunshine, passionate and positive to a fault.

Oh, that Charlie! She was just so delightfully enchanting! Cute, but not stupid. Naïve, but not gullible. I was not entirely sure why I thought so highly of her, but I didn’t mind that I did. She was entertaining – and I just love entertaining individuals. They always know how to humor me.

However, entertaining individuals aren’t all that humorous when the individual in question is… disappearing on a regular basis.

**That’s no fun.**

  
**AaA**

  
Now, it had come to my attention that lately, Charlie had this strange habit of… disappearing around noon. She’d just up and left – but she’d reappear after a whole hour. Whenever she turned up again, she was all smiles and looking as radiant as she always did, that charming, lovely girl, heavens, wasn’t she just the peachiest peach around this valley of tears here, but she wouldn’t tell a _soul_ where she had been during her break time.

Since Charlie would sometimes share her precious break time with me, I was fairly annoyed that she now wouldn’t come join me at _all_ anymore. Why would she, she had a place she’d rather be. Again, I wasn’t sure why this stung so much. It just bothered me. We were business partners, after all. We should always keep each other pretty close and up to date, no? Yes?

Well _I_ thought so, at least.

So I kept a close eye on her, and by doing just that, I found out Charlie always went upstairs around the time she'd have her break. She simply slithered upstairs, like a very good-looking, blonde snail, and then she’d _evaporate,_ seemingly. It cost me a few days of stalki… no, cleverly following Charlie around in the shadows before I finally discovered that the lovely lady ascended no less than four stairways before retreating herself into a certain room.

After that, I went after her one good day. I politely waited a minute or ten outside the mysterious door – to make it seem that I really just accidentally happened to stumble upon the room, oh _my, such_ a coincidence – and then I, too, opened the heavy, wooden doors leading me into a…

…a…

…well well well, was this a library?

An actual library?

In Hell?

Well what a relief for all those sinners and lowlifes, wasn’t it: even in this unfair hellhole, they were able to enjoy some nice Austen and Brönte to their hearts content. Let’s daydream about Mr. Darcy and that Heathcliff-guy while suffering for eternity, boys and gals. Ha ha!

No, but joking aside – what a wonderful place this was!

I was both stunned and amazed at the sight of so many books. My hands even started to itch a bit, eager to just stroll over to the nearest bookcase and run my fingers over the broad spines. The last time I had seen a library that was this packed, was… well, was when I was still alive, of course. That had been over more than 80 years already.

I hadn’t read a book in more than 80 years.

Well.

That sudden realisation made me a bit sad, to be fair.

I had always been an avid reader when I was still a living and breathing human being. There was a good reason for that, too. You see, when I—

 _There_ she was.

My train of thought was brutally interrupted when I noticed Charlie, lying on a red snuggler of some sorts, sound asleep. She looked peaceful, rolled up like a cute little kitten, a hint of a happy smile on her doll-like face. I know it probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly thing to do, but I couldn’t help but stare at her sleeping figure for a couple of seconds.

Then I made a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Royal Game' was a very thin, short book, about a locked-up man who's sanity is first saved by a book about famous chess games. But later, he loses his mind anyway, because of that very same book. It's also one of my 'Forbidden Books': I think it was forbidden by the Nazi's, because it was a very psychological, confusing book. I'm not sure, though.


	4. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie discovers that Alastor has discovered she has a library.

I woke up when my phone’s alarm started going off. 

It was a horrible, _horrible_ sound, of course – I wouldn’t wake up otherwise – so I groaned and started reaching for the damn thing, throwing my hands around on the soft seating of the chaise longue, until I found it. I turned it off and yawned, stretching myself and starting to get upright again…

…and then I felt the blanket, slowly sliding off of me.

I stared at it, confused. Okay. That… that was weird. I didn’t remember covering myself with a blanket before falling asleep?

I wanted to grab the blanket off the carpeting and give it a good look, when I suddenly noticed… something out of the corner of my eye. 

No, not something. Some _one._ I wasn’t sitting alone on the couch anymore.

I instantly turned my head around and could barely suppress a startled yelp when I noticed Alastor, of all people, sitting and chilling right next to me on the low sofa thing like it was something he did each and every day. He didn’t respond to my sudden, jerking movements and just kept reading some book he had in his hands, not having a care in the world.

Pretty thick book, though. 

I didn’t know what to think of it. I mean, my mind was still pretty hazy, since I had been asleep not too long ago, and so I simply sat there next to him for a little while, grasping into my pants as I internally grasped for words to say.

"A-Alastor?" I finally spoke up and sat up a bit more… dignified. "For how long have you been here?"

The Radio Demon made a shushing sound and pushed a friendly, yet forceful finger onto my lips, not even looking up from the pages. I froze up at the unexpected touch, but complied.

After a few more seconds, he hummed contently, put a bookmark in-between the yellowish pages of the book and closed it with a hard _snap._

"Well!" he started, eventually removing his claw-like finger from my mouth. "What a marvellous little hiding place you have found for yourself here, my dear!"

I nervously put some of my blonde bangs behind my ears. "This… this is my book collection. Okay – my parents’ book collection. Apparently, they were a gift from my dad when I moved out – according to him, they always manifest somewhere in every place I call my home."

Why the hell did I tell him that? He didn’t even ask for that bit of information!

Alastor grinned his big, creepy smile. "A fine gift indeed! Books make everything better, don’t you agree?"

I blinked. "You _like_ books, Al?"

"Like? Ho ho, I LOVE books, darling!" Alastor said, while his disturbing radio noise sounded a lot like an applauding, cheering audience. "And it pleases me to see that you, too, enjoy the company of some fine literature! How _delightful!"_

"Yyyyeah, about that." I rubbed my arm, smiling sheepishly. "I… well, I actually… _don’t_ read all that much?"

He laughed. "Please, my dear, don’t tell me you’re only using this wondrous place to conceal yourself from the others and get some shuteye! That would be _such_ a wasteful thing to do!"

I avoided his eyes and pressed my lips together, feeling a little flustered.

"Oh. Right. So that’s _exactly_ what you’ve been doing here all this time. A shame, really." The red demon clacked his tongue in a dismissive manner and shook his head. Then he got up, presumably to put his book back onto the shelf where he got it from.

"You don’t understand – it’s just so very nice and quiet up here," I stammered, trying to explain. "I mean, come on – it’s a _library._ None of our current residents is ever going to visit the library out of their own free will, so whenever I’m having my break, I… well, I go to this chamber, to lie down for a little while. This place is perfect for that, don't you agree?" 

"Not for long, I’m afraid."

Alastor suddenly sat back down on the couch again, but way closer to me than he was before. He rather painfully snagged my face with his sharp hands and laughed when he noticed my startled expression. He looked... incredibly _terrifying._

"Wait until I tell the others about this heavenly little resting spot of yours, doll, then it’s all over. Ah, can you picture it already, Charlie? How that spider-like pervert will welcome al of his 'visitors' here, on the chaise longue? How Husker will use every nook and cranny here to stash away his huge collection of alcoholic drinks? How your precious, former lover will drag you out of this place because of some minor accident, each and every time you think you’re alone?"

"N-no, don’t do that," I managed to say, looking up into his eerily, glowing eyes. "I-I don’t want any more people knowing about this place! This is _mine!"_

"Well color me surprised." Alastor suddenly looked a lot more normal again and seemed pleased with my answer. "So even our darling, selfless princess has a few things she’d like to keep to herself?"

"That’s okay, right? There’s nothing wrong with that." I felt his grip around my chin and cheeks weaken, but for some reason, I didn’t push his hands away.

"Of course not, dear. This is your room and it’s fully understandable you’d like to keep it to yourself! However…" 

Alastor started to stroke a thumb over one of my cheeks. I wondered why. I also wondered why I let him, really.

"…I know of your secret room, now. And I’d like to visit this library more often."

"Oh, but that’s okay! You can come here whenever you like," I instantly said. 

And I meant it – it seemed like a very good idea, even though I couldn’t really put my finger on it. I looked up at the fearsome Radio Demon and smiled brightly at him.

"You like – no, _love_ books, you said. And you’re a neat person who won’t make the library a mess. Plus, you’ve already shown that you won’t wake me up when I’m taking a nap here. Right?"

Alastor was taken aback, I could sense it, even though it was hardly visible because of his unreadable smile. Then he chuckled and released my face, at last.

"Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem to suggest that this library is going to not only be _your_ hiding place, but _mine_ as well?"

"Only if you want it to be," I shrewdly said, and Alastor laughed again.

"Well you certainly seem to know how to play your cards right. Alright, you cheeky little devil!" He took my hand and shook it jovially before I even had time to respond to it. "It’s a deal – and it's a pleasure, too!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought 'Catch-22' was one of the greatest and also weirdest books I've ever read (that ending, am I right?). Apparently, it was banned in a couple of states because of the language in the story. Such a stupid reason to ban a book, though: just let the author say what they want to say.


	5. Madame Bovary (Gustave Flaubert)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie decides she wants to actually try out this strange hobby Alastor has: _reading_.

From that day on, I wasn’t the only one visiting the library during break time anymore.

Sometimes, I’d walk into the library and Alastor would already be there, on the chaise longue, completely immersed in that same, huge book he had started with. Other times, he would pop in later, when I was already sound asleep. In both cases, I’d always wake up afterwards with a nice blanket folded around me.  
  
He never said anything about how that blanket happened to end up wrapped around me and I never asked.

Most of the time, when I woke up, he’d be gone already. But in the rare cases Alastor was still present, he would always be surprisingly courteous towards me. 

Like, um… well, Alastor and I almost never spoke in the library (since he really seemed to dislike that), but whenever he and I both wanted to leave the room around the same time, he’d hold the door for me, wish me a good day and he occasionally even took my hand to press a kiss on it.

A freaking _kiss!_

H-he bowed before me and all while doing it!

Now, I… I _know,_ aright?

I _know_ he’s a crazy, dangerous former serial killer and demon slicer, with a morbid fascination for despair, chaos and misery, and he doesn’t seem to have any interest in anything that isn’t… one of the three aforementioned things. Also, something that looks even a little bit like – dare I say it – _affection_ seems to be a completely abstract concept to him. 

But honestly, if I hadn’t known any better, I could’ve sworn that Alastor was falling in love with me.

Good thing I did know better, though!

  
**CcC**   
  


And so, a week passed. Just like that.

I kept enjoying my break time in the library, and so did Alastor. We both appreciated our brief time off in completely different ways, though, since I always pretty much instantly left for Snoozeville and since Al always… read. That one book. The scary, huge one. 

And it wasn’t just for show. I knew he actually read it, because I kept a sneaky eye on it and yes, I indeed saw the progress he’d made each and every day. 

Man. I guess he really wasn’t joking when he said he loved books, huh? 

Maybe that book was just _that_ enjoyable. 

Or maybe reading in general was just very enjoyable. I couldn’t really recall, actually. It had been a long time since I had finished my last book. I guess I was still a fairly young girl back then…

I suddenly heard Alastor laugh quietly about something he read (because his eyes were still glued to the pages), which intrigued me. I mean, sure, he laughed and smiled all the time, it was pretty much his trademark. You’re never fully dressed without a smile yada yada slaying time and all that. 

But his laughter sounded _genuine_ this time. Like he was actually, honest-to goodness _amusing_ himself, which was freaking astonishing, really, because there was no explosion happening, no hysteria around, no funky business and not even one slowly dying demon in sight – just that… that stupid book of his. Mine, I mean – it was still my book. 

It made me curious.

So one ordinary Wednesday, when we were both sitting on the chaise longue again, I hesitantly grabbed the hem of his coat and gently tugged it, to get his attention. He instantly slammed the book shut and turned his head into my direction so horribly quickly that I could swear I heard his neck _snap._

"Jesus," I gasped, releasing his coat.

"I’m flattered, but you can just call me Alastor, dear. Or Al. Whatever floats your boat!" He put the book away and grinned at me, his radio noise crackling in the background like a soft fireplace. "You know I don’t feel like talking much while I’m here, but since you’ve been pretty high-strung ever since entering the library today, I’ll let it slide this time. Now, can I help you, hmm?"

"Uhm, well, yeah, maybe?" I started combing through my hair with my fingers, because that was wat I did, messing around with my hair whenever something/someone unnerved me.

Alastor, however, encouraged me to carry on. "Enlighten me, then!"

"Well… before I do that, I'm actually wondering just how many books you’ve read in your lifetime."

His whole face lit up, which was almost endearing to see. "Oh ho ho! Yes indeedy, a whole lot, my dear! Why, I daresay I devoured no less than, say, close to a thousand books in my life. Not counting the books I read more than once, of course!"

My jaw dropped. "Wha – close to a _thousand_ books?"

"Yes!"

"But… you were, like, 32 or 33 years old when you died, right?"

"Yes!"

"That’s… a lot of books you've managed to read in your relatively short life."

"Ah well, what can I say?" Al shrugged, his grin quickly getting darker and more ominous. "I had to keep myself busy _somehow._ I got… **bored** rather quickly, you see…"

I shivered and decided to not ask for an elaboration on that dubious statement. 

"In that case, you’ll probably be able to tell me what’s so great about it. Reading, I mean," I swiftly continued. 

Alastor stared at me, not-blinking long enough to make it seem more than just a _little_ uncomfortable.

"My dear, I’m very much, _painfully_ aware of the depressing fact that you’re not a bookish type, but please, even you must have experienced the joy of reading good literature, right? Surely I don’t need to _explain_ to you why reading is such a thrill?" 

I could heard the mocking tone in his voice. He sounded like a condescending, mean teacher, making fun of one poor little student in front of the entire class. It didn’t rile me up all that much though, and I frowned, huffing at him. 

"Well I’ll have you known that I did read _some_ books, thank you very much! I read the entire Harry Potter-series, and some Twilight-books, and some other… YA-books when I was a teenager, I think…"

Alastor listened to me and nodded understandingly. "Oh, my apologies – by the sound of it, you’ve indeed never read a single worthwhile book in your life! My mistake. But no worries, darling, I’ll gladly tell you the benefits of reading a true masterpiece!" 

He grinned giddily, wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer to him – as always, way closer than I needed to be – as he began his very animated tale about the many, many wonders of, well, books.

I was a bit reserved a first, as usual, trying to get at least a hint of a distance between us… but, _also_ as usual, it didn’t take the Radio Demon that long to entice me with his grotesque, non-verbal motions and enthusiastic voice (that barely contained any disturbance at all this time). His hand, at first almost aggressively gripping my upper arm, got less and less firm, and eventually felt kinder, more discreet, maybe even almost _gentle._

Of course I got so caught up in his amusing manner of speaking that I couldn’t hear or remember a word of anything Al was telling me, but his energetic narrative told me everything I needed to know: I was missing out on a whole lot of greatness by not reading!

"Okay," I hastily said, when I saw a chance to interrupt Alastor without being offensive or rude, "okay, Al, you’ve convinced me! Reading a great book sounds like… well, if I have to believe you, it sounds like a wonderful adventure that I just have to experience for myself."

He seemed very satisfied with this outcome. "Well good for you, my dear!"

I looked up at him eagerly. "Do you have any recommendations? What would be a good book for me to start with, you think?"

"Why I thought you’d never ask!" Alastor jumped off the couch, giving me a small heart attack in the process, and pulled me up with him. "Leave it to me, Charlie dear! I’ll find you something nice and I'll fill your little, cramped world _right_ up!"

I just laughed and willingly walked along with the fanatic demon, unable to keep my eyes off of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Madame Bovary' was a tough book to get through, but it gets better the more you get into it. It even made me laugh a few times (which is just silly, I mean, the main characters are all suffering terribly and here I am, laughing because of a certain hysterical carriage-scene).  
> The book was heavily criticised because it was filled with 'obscenities' - and the author was even put on trial for it. Flaubert had to explain to the prosecutors that he may had written the book, but that he didn't necessarily agree with the things Emma (the main character) did. In other words, Emma wasn't his voice - she had her own voice. He was just the writer.  
> As you might have expected, he won the trial and the book naturally got even more popular.


	6. Les Liaisons Dangereuses (Choderlos de Laclos)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor finds out he unironically _enjoys_ Charlie's bubbly presence and recommends her some books.

Now, it was puzzling me quite a bit, but I didn’t recognize this jittery feeling I felt inside of my chest as I guided Charlie around her own library, still holding her delicate little hand. 

Such a strange, unusual feeling, really.

If I had to describe it somehow, it kind of felt like my heart was making sluggish, yet hopeful, happy hops, bouncing around in my undead ribcage like a confused, drugged bird, struggling to find a way to get out.

I didn’t especially dislike it, though.

I tried to figure out why that was, what this foreign feeling was, as I ran my fingers over the firm, fat spines of the books in the first bookcase Charlie and I passed. All this time, I kept a steady hold on the hand of the Princess of Hell – for no particular reason. Naturally, I liked having control over all kinds of situations, objects and persons like this; imposing physical contact always made getting my way and asserting my dominance a lot easier.

However, Charlie obediently followed me around, out of her own free will. I held her tightly, but she didn’t struggle against it, didn’t try to pry her hand out of my grasp, didn’t protest whatsoever. I glanced to the side to look at her as we paused to take a look at the next bookcase. She observed the books in front of her keenly, with her big, dark and yet so very bright eyes, until she seemed to feel I was watching her. She lifted up her face and shot me a goofy, kind smile and oh my goodness I felt like either punching a wall or melting on the spot from the sweetness of it all.

"Everything alright, Al?" she asked. 

"Of course, my dear!" I answered. 

When had been the last time I had felt this innocently excited over something this small, this alien, this insignificant?  
  


**AaA  
  
**

During my lifetime, many humane hobbies and interests bored me rather quickly. That’s why murdering people was such a fun thing me to do: it never got _dull._ Every chosen victim, every slow and merciless kill, every brutal method I’d use to sniff out one’s life – it’d keep me occupied, entertained. It made me feel _alive_ – it was one of the few things that made me feel alive, like I was living an actual life.

The alternative – even the mere thought of it – was too agonizing for me. I couldn’t bear boredom. I needed to be entertained. Constantly. **Always.** Either by working as a charismatic radio host during the day or by killing people in dark alleyways at nighttime – or, well, by reading.

Yes, I actually was able to find quite some pleasure in reading books. Logically so, I might add: my disturbed, flawed, yet highly imaginative mind had no trouble at all to make the stories I read on paper even more horrible, more fantastical, more… 

…more _lively._

I was sure I therefore experienced tales and stories a lot more intensely than other, normal people, and whenever I got engrossed in literature that absolutely made my feverish imagination run wild, well…

Let’s just say the people living around my neighborhood slept a lot more peacefully then. Ha ha!

Unfortunately, after my untimely yet well-deserved demise and arrival in Hell, I had forgotten all about my passion for stories and books. I started busying myself with terminating annoying demons in Hell, until even _that_ began to feel like a tedious task.

Then I met our charming Charlie – and entertaining myself seemed to be a lot easier as long as I was around her. Everything was just that little bit more entertaining with the Princess at my side, even trifle things like simply walking around, having a chat and enjoying well-written fiction.

That reminded me: it was all thanks to Charlie that I had been reminded of my love for literature again. Furthermore, she made my hobby even more enjoyable by offering to join me, by allowing me to pick out a suitable masterpiece for her!

I was so irrational ecstatic about all of this that I was beginning to shake uncontrollably. It almost frightened me – it felt like I’d spontaneously combust if I’d get any more lovely stimuli.

But just what caused this abnormal, dangerous phenomenon I unwittingly seemed to crave for so much?  
  


**AaA**   
  


I tried to focus on my task at hand again and looked at Charlie expectantly.

"By the way, what kind of genres do you enjoy? What kind of stories manage to pique your interest?"

The darling girl put her free hand to her chin, rubbing it as she thought about my question. "Hmm, well, I guess I like… romantic stories. Oh! And thrillers – I mean, like, something that just… _garbs_ my attention and _doesn’t let go of it_ until I’ve seen it all!" 

Again, she beamed at me, her smile so pure and so honest that I was abruptly overcome with such intense feelings of affection and fondness for the princess that I couldn’t form words anymore, couldn’t even think anymore, and oh my, if that wasn’t the most unnerving feeling I had ever experienced! 

"Al?" Charlie gave me a somewhat worried glance.

In my current state, I was unable to properly convey words, as I was saying, but I sure hoped my desperately twitching face told Charlie something like _Yes, my dear?_

In a weak moment, she slipped her hand out of mine – but before I could lament the loss of it and berate myself for letting go of her that readily, she put it on my forearm – carefully.   
  
"Are you _sure_ you’re alright?"

"Why of course!" my voice all of a sudden resonated rather hysterical through the silent chamber, and I immediately went to pluck Charlies hand off my arm.

I greatly disliked sudden touches I hadn’t asked for, because I knew what their effect could be on a person’s confidence. So I avoided all touches that weren’t initiated by me – and if somebody happened to touch me anyway, well, I’d **make them stop** , one way or another.

But instead of unceremoniously dropping Charlies hand like a dirty rag, as I usually did with unwanted hands, I wrapped mine around hers again and folded my hand on my back, never letting go of Charlie’s.

"So anyway! Romantic and thrilling, you asked!"

Charlie didn’t respond right away, the distance between us even shorter than before because of my current stance.

"What about one of these two books?" I pointed at two books I had noticed earlier. They seemed to be good starters for someone like Charlie – not very experienced in the reading department, but willing to learn.

She still didn’t say anything – but she didn’t pull away, either. On the contrary, her hand actually seemed to relax some more in mine, scooting even a bit closer to me. 

"Hm, let me see…"

I caught a waft of her scent. Charlie smelled like freshly washed cotton sheets, clean and soapy, and _why_ did _she,_ a being that was born in _Hell,_ of all places, smell so unbearably _godly?_ She had no right to smell so nice! No right at all!

Why had I smelled her again?   
  
"You know what – just give me the thinnest." Charlie’s upbeat voice brought me back to my senses again. "Sorry, you must think I’m a coward, choosing the thin book over the other, but…"

"Nonsense!" I was quick to say. "Everybody needs to start at a certain point, no? Well, this is _your_ starting point. You go ahead, my dear."

"Let me read what’s it about, first." Charlie took the book off the shelf and turned it around, studying the summary on the backside. 

It was a calming moment, in which Charlie read and I held her small, warm hand. Nothing more, nothing less and it was everything I seemed to want right then and there, and again, that was such an unsettling realisation, but it was true – and I didn’t know what to think of it.   
And then Charlie softly squeezed my hand.

"I’ll pick this one," she nodded, and the smile she gave me had a shy, yet _dazzling_ spark to it. "Thanks for your help, Alastor!"

I wanted to do something I wanted to do something I wanted to do something so badly.

But all I could muster was a smile that was way too tender to be produced by someone like me – and it was all for her.

All **because** of her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses' was an amazing book to read! I recommend it to everybody that likes tales about seduction, tension, tragedy and the corruption of pure goodness. The well-written, cunning main characters are so evil, but you can't help but love them.  
> The book was written by De Laclos as a warning moralily tale - you know, like, "please don't do what my characters do, for it will be your downfall".  
> However, some suspect he actually enjoyed writing the story, since his writing style was very passionate and you could tell he probably started loving the omnious story along the way.  
> It was a very scandalous book nonetheless, since you see two bad people bringing down two innocent women that didn't deserve the despair they end up with.


	7. Of Mice and Men (John Steinbeck)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie tries out a book. She kind of likes it.

That very same day, I started reading the book Alastor had recommended to me. 

It only had – what – 100 pages, which was extremely short. Still, Alastor kept telling me that a book didn’t need to be monstrously big to be good. He wanted read the work for himself after I’d finished it, so if that wasn’t a good indication of its greatness, then what else would be?

The story was fairly simple: it was about a guy, looking for his long-lost girlfriend. They had been a loving couple and things were alright for a while, until she suddenly went missing at a gas station, during a vacation. On his quest to find her, the main character meets a strange person who claims to have been the last one to have seen the girl alive. There was something very eerie and uncomfortable about this man – and then my break time suddenly was over again.

"Wow," I said, shutting the book, "would you look at that – I’m almost halfway already!"

The Radio Demon next to me did the same with his book and gave me an affable grin. "Well of course, Charlie: just look at the size of it! Why, I bet I’d have ploughed through it _effortlessly_ in just one mere hour!"

"Yeah, well, you don’t seem to have a lot of problems making your way through _that_ doorstopper, either," I said. I wanted to raise a hand and point at the work of literature resting on his lap, but I couldn’t, since he was still holding my hand.

So I just did an awkward nodding movement with my head, like a moron.

"Indeed." Alastor’s voice sounded neutral, but I thought I heard a timid tone buzzing through it. As if the red, demonic overlord didn’t know how to compose himself.

"Well anyway," he then said, taking my book from my hands, "I’ll put these back where they belong. Do remember where I put yours, dear, or else you won’t be able to continue tomorrow!"

He finally let go of my hand and stood up, walking away from me to stash away the books in their respectable bookcases. 

It was pretty natural, the way he had just released my hand and strolled off. Still, it felt odd to suddenly feel my hand cooling off now it wasn’t being held any longer. I think he had been holding on to it for almost an entire hour, probably, and I had let him, because…

I don’t know, it was a nice feeling, I guess? 

I mean, I enjoyed holding hands with people I liked. Vaggie and I used to do it on a regular basis – it just had this soothing, comforting effect on the both of us. Now that we had broken up, she wasn’t too eager to touch me much longer than was needed to. 

It wasn’t like I couldn’t fathom why. After all, it had been _my_ idea to break up. I-I felt I _had_ to. I loved her, I still did, but I no longer saw Vaggie as a lover. She was more like a sister to me – and once you start viewing your partner as your sibling, things get weird and klutzy in a very not-cute way.

It gets painful fast.

Vaggie wasn’t too happy to end our relationship, but understood where I was coming from. She’s amazing, really. She begrudgingly allowed me to break us up and she even was kind enough to stay right here, in the hotel, as my best friend and colleague. But she didn’t like to be as close to me as she was when we were still together. I think it was still difficult for her – and she was right to protect herself from… getting hurt again.

Good thing the past had proved our friendship had always been able to overcome any hardships it faced. Hopefully, it would survive this blow as well.

But back to me and Alastor.

I sat on the chaise longue for a bit longer, watching Alastor as he lingered in front of yet another bookcase. An amused smile crept on my face. Who could’ve thought Al had such a nerdy side to him? He had been a radio host when he was alive, but even nowadays, radio hosts were considered to be _cool_ dudes, not… lame readers of great works of fiction. I felt like I was seeing new things and bits and pieces of Alastor that not many people down here were supposed to see.

He didn’t mind _me_ seeing that side of him, though. He didn’t mind anything I did, actually.

I liked that.

I got up from the couch and dusted off my pants, before making my way to the library’s entrance with a slight hop in my step. I knew I was supposed to leave already and get to work, but I didn’t want to just ditch Alastor like that. Sharing this secret library and break time with him made me view him differently, like a… a partner in crime or something!

Probably not the best comparison I could have made, but alright.

I pretended to tie my shoelaces as I waited for Alastor to join me, and when he did, I rolled up again, like I had just timed it that way.

I could tell Alastor knew I had been loitering in front of the door on purpose, though, and the atmosphere got a bit uneasy, since neither of us wanted to comment on that.

"Well! Ready for the rest of the day, my dear?" he asked me after a really awkward pause had passed.

"Yes!" I responded a tad too eagerly. "I mean, well, I think so? I’m kind of having a meeting with Vaggie later today, so that’s something. I also need to make a grocery list of all the things that we’ll have to buy this week, and I should make an appointment with a self-proclaimed professional who’s told me he knows of some good methods to help our sinners come to terms with their past and redeem themselves…"

Alastor was impressed. "Sounds like you’ll be busy, then! Well, do call on me if you need any kind of assistance, darling. You know how much I love helping you in any way possible."

"I do," I mumbled, as he once again took my hand and placed a quick peck on the back of it.

"I’ll be seeing you later, Charlie. Have a marvellous day!"

I noticed his shadow moving around his unmoving figure. I looked at it curiously for a little while, before reminding myself it was rude to stare at someone’s shadow like that (probably?). I wanted to look back at the Radio Demon himself and say goodbye as well, but then he suddenly vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a small, black cloud of dust and magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read 'Of Mice and Men' only last year. It's about a couple of migrant ranch workers that wander around the land in search for a job to do. One of them is rather clever, the other one really isn't. Things then suddenly take a very bad turn and one of them (spoiler alert) has to kill the other one.  
> I can't say I really liked it all that much… it was a pretty big deal in America, however. Maybe I just read a bad translation?  
> It got censored because of its offensive and racist language. It probably didn't really age well...


	8. Henry & June (Anaïs Nin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie meets up with Vaggie. Vaggie warns her about Alastor.

I met up with Vaggie at our office. Even though we split up, we still both shared the same working place – and I was glad, too. Vaggie and I were a great team! Besides, this hotel could never have existed if it hadn’t been for Vaggie’s ever-lasting support. She believed in this dream of mine, even if it was for my sake, and I wouldn’t let her down. No, I _refused_ to let her down!

So even though I wasn’t planning on telling Vaggie about my library, I would tell her about anything else I thought was important for her to know as well. 

"Hey Charlie." Vaggie, who was putting some paper that we didn’t need anymore into the new shredder we had bought just a few days before, smiled at me – the soft, kind smile she usually reserved for me. It had a sad undertone to it. "How was your break time?"

"Great," I responded.

"Good." Vaggie carried on… shredding papers. "Still not planning to tell me where you’re off to every day, huh?"

"Uhm…"

"No, that’s okay! I get it. It’s getting busier and busier every day, so you need some place to unwind more than ever, right?"

I gave her a grateful, relieved smile. "Thanks, Vaggie. For understanding."

"Hey, no problem." She kept on smiling that typical Vaggie-smile. It made me feel like a huge bitch, really, but I had to focus now: after all, I had something important to tell her.

"So I made this new discovery," I started out of the blue.

Vaggie tilted her head a bit. "What?"

"Did you know that Alastor… loves books?" I made a comical face that practically _screamed_ ‘what the _hell,_ right???’, but Vaggie just shrugged.

"That makes sense."

I kind of deflated at her casual remark. "…you think so?"

"Well, yeah?" Vaggie started shredding a particular huge pile of rainbow-colored paperworks – she had problems standing upright while dumping the papery mountain into the shredder, bit by bit. "He lived during the Roaring Twenties, Charlie – there was some jazz and a few good cinemas around and maybe you could go out and dance or whatever, but most of all, there were a lot of good books that got published in the 1920s. I can see Alastor reading works of Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Kafka and Joyce."

I looked at Vaggie as if I had never seen her before.

"You… I didn’t know you like reading as well, Vaggie."

"I guess so. I used to study English, you know, I wanted to become a teacher, before I… before things started going down the drain." Vaggie kind of stopped right there, took a few breathes and went on. "So anyway, because of that, I also had to read books from _that_ specific time period. That’s why I happen to know much about it."

"Ah." I rubbed my arm, feeling ashamed. I had never known Vaggie was pretty knowledgeable about literature. I did remember what she used to study, but still, I never seemed to make a connection between that and… reading. She didn’t read much nowadays, that’s for sure.

"Also, Alastor isn’t a fan of technological things, so of course he’d find some joy in old, unchanging things like books – as far as that asshole can find joy in _anything_ that’s not harming or annoying others," Vaggie grumbled. "I seriously wonder what that dipshit’s deal is. And why he keeps on hanging around the hotel, bugging everybody."

"He’s our business partner – and he’s a guest, just as much as all the others," I sternly said. "He, too, deserves our help and guidance."

Vaggie shook her head slowly. "Help? _Guidance?_ Charlie, I told you before and I’ll tell you again: that guy _can’t_ be redeemed!"

"Vaggie, I – well, _maybe_ he can’t, but you don't know that for su—"

"I don’t like how much you seem to like him."

Vaggie’s sudden interruption shut me up good and she flushed a bit, red spots appearing in her neck as well. She turned to glare at the shredder instead of looking at me. The poor thing was having a hard time getting rid of all the paperwork Vaggie kept on forcing into it.

"Lately, he disappears around noon – just like you. He’ll reappear as soon as you reappear. He follows you around and he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. You won’t tell me, but I just _know_ he goes to the exact same spot you are during break time. You should just _see_ his damn face whenever I bump into him after his break – that smug, know-it-all grin of his, _ugh…"_

"Vag…"

"And although you can be a bit dense, you’re not _that_ dense, are you?" Vaggie glanced at me – carefully, as if she was afraid her eye could wound me. "That bastard is _planning_ something, Charlie. Something _evil._ And it clearly has got something to do with _you._ He’s not exactly subtle about it, either."

Oh.

To be fair, I had expected Vaggie to say something about Alastor’s behaviour, but not _this._

"I… don’t think he’s really up to something." I chuckled meekly. "I actually think he’s… uhm… kind of… settling down a bit here?"

"What do you mean?" Vaggie sighed, finally leaving the shredder alone and facing me again, her arms folded over each other.

"Well – he hasn’t done anything horrible ever since he… started vanishing around noon, right? He’s getting friendlier!"

 _"Friendlier?"_ Vaggie’s one eye grew twice its size. "Charlie, just a little while ago, he bothered and pestered that one twitchy, nervous resident on the second floor until the tormented girl literally _flung_ herself off the balcony! Just because she was ' _boorish'_ to him! Husk had to scrape her remains off the pavement!"   
  
"That was two weeks ago," I weakly protested, shivering as I remembered that weird, pink splotch on the ground right at the entrance of the hotel. "Alastor didn’t do anything like that afterwards."

"Yeah, fine – okay, I’ll give you that," Vaggie huffed. "And you claim that’s because he’s been spending more time with you or something?"

It sounded pretty arrogant when she put it like _that,_ but I had to nod. It was, at least partly, as Vaggie said. "I think so. I mean, I don’t think I have a _bad_ effect on him."

"Well _I_ think you shouldn’t bother. God, Charlie. You’re starting to sound like one of those… you know, those women who write to criminals in jail, innocently believing _they_ can be the ones to set their bad boy straight. To point them to the righteous path of justice and happiness and what-not."

That hurt. 

I looked at Vaggie, biting back tears. "Is _that_ what you believe I’m doing? You think I’m nothing more than a stupid, naïve girl who thinks her unrealistic affection for an inherently bad guy can help him redeem himself?"

"Charlie—"

"How many setbacks have I – have _we_ already experienced, ever since our goal to try and give sinners a chance to get redemption was set into stone? How many times have we been disappointed since then, again and again? Do you _really_ believe _I_ still believe my friendship and connection to somebody alone will be the key to one’s salvation?"

I could tell from her shocked expression that she didn’t mean to make me angry or sad. "No, Charlie, I… look, I – I just don’t want you to get hurt. Again."

"Well that’s going to happen anyway, isn’t it? One way or the other." I sniffed, roughly rubbing my sleeve over my nose. "But I’m okay with that! You _know_ I’m okay with that! I’m the Princess of Hell, and it’s my duty to believe in my people and encourage them in any way I can! Sure, I guess that forming a bond with the sinners will give me a head start, but I’m well aware that that alone won’t be enough to redeem anybody. Getting hurt will remind me of that! It – it will keep me on my toes! That’s _good!"_

Then I started crying, because why not, right?

"Okay, Charlie… okay. I’m sorry. Take it easy." Vaggie hesitated for a second, but then she came towards my shaking body and wrapped her arms around me, patting my head clumsily. "T-there, there. You’re doing the best you can. I know you do – and I’m sorry for making you think I’m doubting you."

"Itzjustsohardddd," I blubbered, clutching the back of her dress, "youknowVaggie? Itzjustsohardsometimess."

I heard her laugh quietly. "I know, I know."

"I don’t always know what to do..."

"None of us do, Charlie."

"Oh – sorry, I’m getting snot all over you…"

"That’s alright, I was planning on putting on something else anyway." She hugged me for a little while longer, before gently pushing me back. 

Her smile was as kind as always, but I once more realized I’d probably never see her true lover’s smile again. It made me feel somewhat… lonely, in a way. However, I hadn’t seen her lover’s smile in a long time, even when we had been together still. 

I didn’t regret it. Truly, I didn’t.

But at times like these, I still felt the afterburn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really isn't a delicate way to describe 'Henry & June': it's pretty much an erotic diary, that tells about the author's sexual escapades with a married American couple - the aforementioned Henry and June Miller. Nin and June start a very dubious, intense friendship that you could see as sexual, while Nin and Henry just hit it off right away. Later, this deep, polyamorous bond she has with both people turns into a lifelong friendship - especially with Henry.  
> The book got a lot of backlash because of its spicy contents and finally got published uncensored after Nin's death in 1977.


	9. Slaughterhouse-Five (Kurt Vonnegut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie finishes her first book. Alastor allows Charlie something.

I finished reading the book Alastor had recommended to me the very next day, during my usual break in the library.

I silently shut the book and just kind of stared into the distance, trying to figure out how to feel.

Alastor, sitting next to me, noticed I had closed the book and used one long, pointy finger to make my head turn his way.

"I see you’ve finished the story, yes?"

"Yeah," I muttered.

"And?"

"He dies as well." I looked down, to the book in my hands. "He just wanted to find his lost girlfriend. And then he undergoes the most horrible ordeal one can imagine."

"Hm-hm, interesting. Do continue."

I did. "He-he wanted to be reunited with her – it became an obsession for him, even after he went and got a new partner. Then, after who-know-how-many years, a mysterious man contacts the guy and tells him to come to him if he wants to know more. The two meet up and the mysterious man confesses he indeed was the one who abducted the girl and, since he feels sorry for the guy, he promises the main character to reveal to him what has happened to his former girlfriend. But _only_ if he is willing to undergo the same fate as the girl did. The guy, desperate to find out how the love of his life had met her end, agrees, and so, he allows to other man to get him sedated – only to wake up a while later, finding himself to be _buried alive._ In the final sentences of the book, it’s described how he slowly but surely starts to panic, realizing his and his former girlfriend’s terrible fate, and then he suffocates – which is described rather colourfully."

"I’m both happy you spoiled the entire ending for me as I am disappointed you did," Al said. "It sounds like a story I’d have enjoyed tremendously, ha ha!"

"I didn’t." I put the book on the little stand next to me.

"That’s not entirely true, now, is it? You liked reading the book, you were engrossed in it so much that you ripped through it in two days! You _enjoyed_ the story, even if it did end in a way you certainly didn’t want it to end! It’s not fair to let the ending of a story impact you so, my dear."

Alastor lightly pinched my cheek.

"Come on, now. _Smile,_ Charlie! If it bothers you that much, I’ll make sure to find you a happier book next time."

"Then find me a light-hearted one, right now," I heard myself pretty much order him. That was quite a gamble of me – I mean, even though Al liked me enough to spend his break with me every day, I wasn’t sure if he liked getting commanded around like that. I felt downhearted, though, and I always got more snappy whenever I wasn’t as chipper as I usually was.

Luckily enough, Alastor didn’t mind my bossy tone. He simply chuckled, amused by my attitude, and bowed his head a bit for me.

"Oh, it will be my _pleasure,_ my dear! But do liven up a bit as I go look for your next literary wonderland, alright?"

"I’ll walk along," I promptly said as he got up from the chaise longue. "If – if that’s okay with you."

"But of course!"

"Also…"

Al gave me a specific look. "You certainly are _demanding_ today, Charlie! Not sure how I feel about that."

I pretended to not hear his comment and looked him straight in the eyes, feeling my face heat up.

"Could you… could you…"

"Yes…?" The Radio Demon cocked his head in such a disturbing way that I didn’t know whether to laugh or to feel slightly concerned for his neck. 

I reached out a trembling hand towards him, licking my lips anxiously as I gathered all of my courage. 

"P-please hold my hand."

"Why?" he instantly asked.

I stared at the taller demon. As always, he had a very convincing pokerface-like smile, confident and even kind of condescending, but there was something underneath it that told me he genuinely was wondering why I asked him this question.

Which was strange. He had taken my hand so many times before, never asking for my permission to do so and not letting go of it until he felt like it – but now that I had shyly asked him to do that same thing again, he was all like “good gracious what kind of ungodly question is _that_ Charlie” and that made me… well, really confused and even a bit sad.

"I don’t _know,_ okay?" I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I refused to shed them. "Maybe… maybe I just _like it_ when you hold my hand. It feels nice. And since your _stupid_ book made me upset, I was hoping to feel something nice, to cheer me up."

Alastor said nothing for a few seconds, he just watched me rubbing my eyes with fisted hands.

"Holding my hand cheers you up?"

"Yeah."

"It feels _nice?"_

This took too long. My shoulders slouched. "You don’t agree…?"

"You’re such a _strange_ girl, Charlie. You certainly don’t seem to know **just who you’re talking to, do you?** " Alastor’s voice got slightly distorted as he approached me. "I’m the stone-cold Radio Demon, my dear! I strike fear in the hearts of all the unfortunate souls around me, I’ve slaughtered many – and here _you_ are, timidly requesting me to go on and hold your hand, as if I haven’t squeezed and **gripped and hurt it repeatedly in the past! As if these hands didn’t commit countless crimes and sins over the many years that have—** "

"So you don’t want to," I swiftly cut him off, forcing myself to smile. "No need to give me a sermon, Alastor, I – I get it."

For a moment, the radio noises that always surrounded Alastor got louder, shriller and more uncomfortable, as he glared creepily at me. His arms, neatly folded on his back, became stiff. He didn’t say a word and his smile, of course, never faltered, not even for a second. He seemed to think about something really hard – hard enough for me to hear the noises, you know - those noises you Always hear when you try to search for a decent music broadcasting station on an old-fashioned radio.

I backed off a bit, frowning and feeling unsure of what to do now.

"Now," Alastor suddenly spoke up, a slight tremor in his deepened voice, "let me tell you _one_ thing and please listen _very_ carefully to me as I say this, Charlie, for I won’t repeat it again."

"Y-yes?"

"You may always take my hand in yours whenever I’m too slow to take yours in mine."

My cheeks got a whole lot warmer again. "You won’t mind?"

Alastor didn’t respond but just turned around on his heels, humming some song I didn’t recognize as he disappeared into the dark shadows of my many bookcases. I quickly ran after him, however, and made sure to put his promise to the test. I paused next to him, when he studied yet another shelf filled with books. I saw one of his arms was, _what_ a coincidence, just loosely dangling next to his side. I sneakily looked from Alastor’s unmoving face to his free, claw-shaped hand and softly touched it with mine.

 _Immediately,_ Alastor clasped my hand tightly, like a starving Venus flytrap would catch a distracted insect – harshly, in an almost despairing manner. I couldn’t stop myself from uttering a subdued cry of pain. 

He ignored my yelp and practically _smashed_ a very thin booklet into my face, explaining with rapid-fire ramblings what it was about. Naturally, I couldn’t understand a thing and as soon as he finished, I cautiously asked him if he could explain again – a bit slower this time, please.

As Alastor regained his senses and allowed me to take the booklet from him, I looked at the yellow cover. This was a story that was a lot older than the last one I read. It had even less pages, too. I observed it was written by a woman.

"I read this one," I heard Al next to me say – a bit breathily, as if he had ran. "As soon as I knew of its existence. It’s a great work! Gave me a lot food for thought!"

"But this book has… just 21 pages!" I looked up at Alastor questioningly.

"Now now Charlie, didn’t I tell you that a book doesn’t need to drown in pages in order for it to be legendary? As this work _clearly_ is!"

"Is it romantic?"

"No, not at all!"

"Is it… thrilling?" 

"Can’t say I found it all that thrilling, no!"

"Why should I read it, then?" I asked him, getting curious.

"Feministic literature," he answered. "One of the earliest works, I believe! It has quite an amusing end as well!"

I smiled. "Knowing you, that ending must have a bit of a _twist_ to it, right?"

"Oh ho ho! Absolutely!"

"I’ll read it, then." I gently squeezed his hand. "You coming back to the couch sofa thing?"

"The what-now?" he asked – but didn’t struggle when I pulled his hand, leading him back. 

By the time we got back at the chaise longue, I had almost stopped thinking about the madman in the _other_ book. The book I had finished today. 

You see, it-it hadn’t especially been the deadly fate of the two main characters that had almost traumatized me.

It was the fact that the cunning, charming and very bookish murderer strongly reminded me of Alastor.  
It made me feel sick to my stomach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Slaughterhouse-Five' was a weird book. I liked most of it, but I didn't really enjoy the alien-parts. And sure, I get it, it's all symbolism and stuff, and Vonnegut tried putting his traumatic past when he was a young man and fought in WW II into words and everything, but...  
> Well. Let's just say that, although I thought it was a good read, I liked 'Catch-22' better.  
> The book was and still IS very controversial. It is/was banned from a lot of American libraries and even in 2011(!), people were still trying hard to just get the book out of their school. The story is, according to some people, filled with profanities and is considered immoral, even psychotic. So go read it, I'd say!


	10. The Satanic Verses (Salman Rushdie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie finishes her second book(let). Alastor has a cute slip of the tongue. Then he goes and ruins it.

I wanted to start reading the booklet that very same day, but Alastor told me I should save it for the next day: I had wanted to read and understand the work, I would probably need at least a whole hour to thoroughly get it. 

So I saved it and actually looked forward to read it the next day.

Oh wow, who would’ve thought: I was actually looking _forward_ to _read a book._ That was just insane.

"No no no," Al said when I told him about my revelation the day after, "that’s just a sign that you _enjoy_ reading, my dear! A very _good_ sign indeed! Congratulations! You should cherish it!"

"I will!" I beamed, at which he wordlessly turned his attention to his own book again. He was getting close to the ending of the story, I had noticed. I wondered what he was going to read next. Somehow, I couldn’t see him reading anything that wasn’t an old classic. Or porn. My god, Al and reading _porn._ I can only imagine what his face must look like if he’d ever open up one of Angel’s dirty magazines…

_"Heavens, what in the name of all that’s good and holy is that man doing with that **sprinkler??"**_

I snorted. 

"Something funny, Charlie?" Alastor asked, and I stopped giggling, shaking my head.

"No, it’s nothing! I’m sorry I disturbed you, though."

He grinned broadly and patted me on the head. Then he took his time curling a lock of hair behind my ear. "No harm done, my love."

I almost choked in my own spit and jolted my head up so fast it hurt. My love? Had he actually called me his _love?_ I got where ‘my dear’ and ‘darling’ came from, but ‘my love’ was, like, on a _whole other level_ than those other, more neutral terms of endearment! 

"Do start reading, Charlie," he said, as he apparently felt me staring intently at him, "I wasn’t lying when I told you you’ll need some time to really get the gist of the story."

"O-oh. Right," I mumbled, forcing myself to turn back to my short story. I opened the booklet and gulped, then I began to read.

In spite of my confused, tumbling-over-one-another thoughts and racing heart, things got quiet in the library again. The only sound you could hear was the occasional flipping of a page.

"It was a slip of the tongue," Alastor then said.

Aaaaaand the story was forgotten again.

I instantly knew what he was talking about. My face caught on fire – at least, that was what it felt like.

"R-really?"

"Yes?"

Why did that ‘yes’ of his sound like a question?

"I don’t mind," I tried to reassure him. I mean, we all did some slips of the tongues sometimes. _Tongue,_ sorry. Singular.

Alastor’s hand found mine resting on the couch again, putting his right on top of my own hand. I felt his fingers wringing themselves in-between my own, clammy ones.

"It might happen more often."

I found it a bit hard to breathe, all of a sudden. I was even getting a bit light in the head, for…for whatever reason. My hand seemed to know what to do and what it wanted, though, as I felt it fumbling and turning itself around, so that our hands could decently clasp one another.

"Alright," I silently said.

Alastor didn’t respond anymore and peace seemingly returned to the room once more.

I didn’t dare to move, I didn’t dare to look at him and I almost didn’t dare to keep on _breathing,_ as everything I’d do had the chance of destroying this otherworldly rare moment we were having, just like a normal couple would.

Wait.

Since when had we become a couple?  
  


**CcC**   
  


I think I must have read the same damn sentence on page one over and over again before I was _finally_ able to actually _read_ again. For god’s sake, I acted like a virginal spinster over something as childish as holding hands! What the _hell,_ Charlie!

…but then again… it wasn’t just some simple handholding anymore, was it? Oh no. This had turned into some pretty intense, almost sexual handholding, and I wasn’t even sure Alastor had been able to do something like that – to _want_ something like that in the first place.

He did, though. He didn’t make a big deal about it, either.

Also, freaking out about sensually holding hands with somebody else can only last this long before you eventually get used to it and, well, continue on reading.

So I’m very proud to say that I, at some point, started reading the short story at last and I’m even _prouder_ to tell you that I managed to finish it within that hour, too, like it was the perfectly casual thing to do while realising a whole lot secretly had _changed,_ between me and Alastor, and I knew it and he knew it and…

…wait, what was up with that ending?

"What a weird ending," I heard myself say, of course attracting Al’s attention right away.

"It’s a very _triumphant_ ending!" he explained. "Can’t you see? Right _there,_ Charlie – see? She has overcome her fears!"

"The only thing she’s overcoming is that lousy husband of hers," I said, _"literally."_

That actually made Alastor burst into laughter.

I…

My god, I made him _laugh?_ Out _loud?_

The Radio Demon’s phony chortling, accompanied by white noise and an annoying, unseen public, sounded nothing like his real laughter. His laughter actually sounded like it was exploding with joy, with gleeful excitement and with something else – something I didn’t really had a name or label for yet.

Just as sudden as he had started laughing, Alastor stopped, just like that, and he seemed almost embarrassed as he shot up from the chaise longue. The couch thing.

"Well! I suppose it’s time to return to all those other lowlifes again, my dear. My, but how time flies when you’re having fun!"

He wiped some tears from his red eyes and couldn’t help chuckling a bit anyway. It made me chuckle as well.

  
**CcC**   
  


Ever the gentleman, Alastor offered to put away our books. He once again promised me to think of a new book for me to read tomorrow and I nodded, following him around as he walked to place the books back in their rightful spots. We didn’t hold hands anymore.

"And what are you still up to, today?" he asked me when we returned to the entrance of the library. "I know there’s only half a day left, but surely you must be busy again, no?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Oh, it’s awful, really: I need to do the hotel’s weekly administration. I hate that so much, it’s just so _boring."_

"Why don’t you dump that tedious task onto somebody else’s to-do-list, then?" he suggested. "That way, you can read more often! With m– _books!"_

Alastor almost tripped himself up right there and even his _radio audience_ realized that, since the static he produced was filled with snickering noises: I even heard somebody _whistle._ That also caught Al off guard, because he blinked rapidly and fiddled around with his microphone stand like it was a baton.

"Well _that_ never happened before."

He really _did_ seem to be quite flustered about his rebelling, invisible public, so I decided to ask him what _he_ was up to today. Did he have anything special to do today?

Alastor held the door for me as we both left the library. He thought about my question for a little while.

"Ah, well, I suppose I don’t have anything ‘special’ to do, no. However, there’s a lot of fun activities for me to do today, such as tormenting Angel Dust, firmly reminding Husker he still needs to pay off his debt to me, making a mess to give Niffty something to do, getting on Vaggie’s nerves, laughing at all the worthless worms that crawl around and in this silly hotel of yours… why, the list just keeps on going!"

He laughed heartily at that, although it didn’t sound anything like the happy laughter he had shared with me in the library. His kind of disturbing plans for the rest of the day made me think about Vaggie’s warning, and my reaction to that. I decided to do something with that.

I put on my sternest face and placed my hands on my hips. "You know, Al, you should do something _worthwhile,_ if you have time to do all those other things."  
  
He stopped his laughing and got a menacing expression on his face. "Is that so? Well I _never_ would’ve thought! What do you suggest, then?"

"You should try to participate in the hotel’s events as well," I said, even though a small voice in the back of my head started to nag at me that this was a bad idea. "After all, _you_ are a guest of the hotel as well, and you, too, deserve a chance—"

"A chance at redemption, Charlie? A chance to earn my spot in Heaven, perhaps? Excuse me, dear, but are you _sane?"_

In the hallway, outside of the library, Alastor came to stand in front of me, up close, as always – but this time, it felt threatening, it felt… _bad._ I found myself stumbling backwards, until my back hit the wall behind me. Alastor’s figure loomed over me, his dark shadow covering me like a black curtain, and the only things that were still vividly visible were his gleaming red eyes.

"You’re a reasonably intelligent woman," he said, his screeching radio waves getting louder and almost unbearable to listen to, "but oh, Charlie, your darling naiveté is just so **insulting.** I’m not a petty pilferer that once stole money from his elderly parents, or a pitiful fool that accidentally, in a fit of rage, beat her loving partner to death – I’m a ruthless **mass-murderer, somebody that was perfectly right in the head when I slaughtered all those people - just because I could, just because I was given that chance!"**

I wanted to say something, but he wouldn’t let me.

 **"I’ve tortured people, Charlie! I’ve made sure they would suffer before dying their inevitable deaths! Why, I even partly _ate_ some folks – how about _that!_ **_That’s_ the kind of man that’s standing before of you, my dear! _That’s_ who I am! And you know what’s even worse? What the biggest piece of evidence is for the fact that I can’t be saved?"

He paused and bent over, harshly grabbing my face and twisting it to the side.

 **"I’d do it all over again,"** he hissed into my ear. **"Everything – I’d do it all again! Again and again and _again!"_**

After that, he roughly let go of me and cackled frantically, sounding hysterical. His shrieking, scraping radio noises were now actively hurting my eardrums and resonating through my body, and even though I had been through worse things than one single, sudden outburst from Alastor, I still felt like crying. 

"S- _still!"_ I then spoke up, forcing myself to keep my head up as I had done many times before, "I believe you could be better! You can be a better person – I-I just _know_ you can!"  
  
It hadn’t been fake – it had been real! It all had happened! He held doors for me, he was happy to spend time with me, he didn’t mind me seeing a softer side of him. He enjoyed holding my hand and he enjoyed that _I_ enjoyed holding his hand! He had shown me a new world I had been afraid of for many years and I could make him laugh like an ordinary man! 

I-I could make him _laugh,_ for god’s sake!

And even though he didn’t believe in my cause, he still wanted to help me! All of this – my entire hotel, library and all – hadn’t been possible _without_ him!

There _had_ to be something good inside of him!

I looked at him fiercely, as Alastor snapped in his fingers and pulled a wet cloth out of nowhere. I once again fought back tears, allowing Alastor to take hold of my face again and dab the bloody scratch his fingers had left on it. 

"Oh, my dear, sweet girl," he said, shaking his head dismissively, "I _do_ adore and respect your misguided optimism, really, I do! It’s endearing and it makes me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of feeling! But that only confirms what I have known for a very long time, ever since meeting _you…"_

I swallowed heavily. "W-what’s that—"

**"Nobody, and especially not _you,_ will ever be able to get me out of Hell, Princess Charlotte."**

I couldn’t speak.

Alastor kept on dabbing my cheek for a while, then snapped in his fingers again to get hold of a band aid. He hummed as he put it on my face, admiring his handiwork from a little distance before giving a contented nod. 

"There! All patched up again. Make sure to refresh that in about a few hours. I’ll be going now! Goodbye, my love."

He even had the _gall_ to give me a fond smile as he lightly bowed for me. After that, he simply turned around and marched off, twirling his damn radio stand thing around as he did so.

I just stood there, nailed against the wall still, until I felt my legs giving in – and I crashed onto the ground. Shaking, I wrapped my arms around my pulled-up knees and buried my face in my arms.

The tended wound on my cheek throbbed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I haven't read 'The Satanic Verses' of Rushdie yet. Gasp! To be honest, I don't know if I will. The book doesn't really suit my tastes. According to the summary, it's a story that's about immigration problems in England, but with some sort of a religious twist.  
> Naturally, not too many people liked that particular bit about the book, and the writer even had to live in hiding for a little while - there were actually people after his life, just because of this book he wrote. Now that's scary.


	11. The Sorrows of Young Werther (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor eagerly waits for Charlie to appear in the library.

Well, I couldn’t _wait_ meeting my darling Charlie in her library again today!

It was a daily moment I was nowadays happily looking forward to: just me and Charlie and her ridiculous French sofa and her loads and loads of books. Nobody else around to distract us, nobody else around to keep her away from me, nobody else who could witness the way that sweet girl made me feel like I could take on the entire world _without_ needing to brutalize each and every irritating obstacle on the way.

There was a name for this feeling, surely. 

However, it was a name I was still hesitant to use, since it was just too _outrageous_ for me to acknowledge such a confusing feeling. 

I kind of wanted to deny it altogether. I wanted to try to.

But now that I had accidentally called Charlie by one of the most embarrassing petnames in existence, and ever since seeing her delighted, approving reaction on that term of endearment, I wondered how long it would take me to just come clean and give in.

Not even my crackling radio audience could be fooled, after all.  
  


**AaA  
  
**

When I arrived at the library around noon, I noticed Charlie hadn’t showed up yet. 

Which was perfect! Now I could take some time and think about the next great work that could entice her. I predicted I had about… five minutes, before the blonde princess would arrive as well, smiling, looking as wonderful as always, fidgeting with her hair and smelling like fresh, made beds…

I still wondered why I loved that smell so much. I didn’t especially like beds, or made beds, for all that matters. Now, I _did_ love the smell of fear and despair, but not on Charlie. Charlie should just stick to made beds. Yes. Yes, that would be best.  
  
Maybe this was a way of the universe to tell me I should sleep more often…?

Fair enough.

I went over to a particular bookcase, that was stacked with well-known fictional works. I narrowed my eyes as I studied the spines and titles. Should I recommend a book to Charlie that was a bit bigger? Something that would challenge her, but also entertain her. But not too thick. She’d never dare to read another masterpiece if I’d tell her to try out, say, Don Quixote. Ha ha ha! She’d _faint!_ Oh dear!

Hm – perhaps it was time to introduce her to Austen. Most women enjoyed Austen, I had learned over time. She was a bit too goody-goody to suit my taste, but I was sure Charlie would love the romantic world that the author could create, in-between her biting commentary on the elite. 

In that case, she should begin with everyone’s favorite Austen-book, _Pride and Prejudice_. A charming, yet clever story, about a charming, yet clever lady. Yes, good idea!

I pulled out the book and I went to the chaise longue, neatly laying down the book next to me. There then. Charlie didn’t even have to wait if she’d come in, she could just start reading right away!

Now, about more pressing matters: should I grab her hand right away as she’d sit down, or should I wait for her to do so? I must admit that having granted the girl permission to go ahead and take my hand as soon as she wished to hold it, made me feel both vulnerable as that it excited me. Her touch was always warm, accepting and calming – a touch that could melt even the most frozen heart, probably.

Maybe I should hold her.

Oh dear.

Well! Apparently, I had crossed _that_ bridge already, ha ha! My oh my, how inconvenient!

I’d like to hold her.

I _wanted_ to hold her.

I wanted to hug and hold her so _badly_ that it made me want to question my own morals, sanity and goals in this doomed afterlife.

Mother would’ve liked her.

Oh god.

 _Another_ alien feeling I had never experienced again ever since arriving here in Hell attacked me out of nowhere, slowly choking me with chucky, sad emotions I had suppressed and swallowed down my throat for so long, I didn’t even count them as emotions anymore. I had to rigidly grasp Dante’s work for a second there, keeping my eyes wide open, because the moment I’d blink, the minute I’d allow myself to think about it any longer, I’d be a goner.  
We couldn’t have that, now, could we?

So I sat tightly and waiting for this – this thing to pass.  


**AaA  
  
**

I felt better within five minutes.

Then I was reminded of the fact Charlie still hadn’t entered the library and I immediately felt bad again.

Well. This was _very_ unusual!

Charlie was never late – that was one of the many things I appreciated about her. She’d never leave you hanging, at least no longer than was socially acceptable. The last time she was a bit later than usual, she kept on apologizing to me and even offered me a bagel to make up for it.

A bagel.

I didn’t care much for bagels.

I took it from her hands anyway.

Her relieved smile was the most wonderful thing I’d see that day.

Anyway – where was she? 

Just as I was about to think about all possible reasons for the princess’ absence, I heard her voice, yelling loudly at somebody. It came from… outside the hotel? I got up, walked over to the big, leaded window Charlie loved gushing about so much and peeked through the curtains. 

Sure enough, there she was. I saw Charlie, ranting something against Angel Dust, who was lounging in the garden (well it was supposed to _look_ like a garden) on a stretcher, with some huge sunglasses on.

"Angel!" Charlie nagged, stomping towards him. "You were supposed to give that stretcher to a _paying_ guest, not just… take it for yourself!"

The spider creature scoffed, adjusting his incomprehensible body just a bit. "Oh I’m sorry, toots, but I just got sooooooooo tired all of a sudden…"

"Tired of _what?_ You’ve been chilling all day already! _Please_ give it to its rightful, temporary owner, Angel!"

Then Vaggie stormed out of the hotel, charging at Angel with her pointy spear at the ready.

"Listen to her, you lazy, good-for-nothing, selfish, pink piece of _shit!"_

"Holy SHIT – get a hold of yourself, you crazy bitch – oh my GOD, FINE ALREADY DON’T STAB ME!" 

The two of them – Angel and Vaggie – then proceeded to make a truly ridiculous scene out of it all by running around and shouting all kinds of profanities to each other, while Charlie leaned against a tree and rubbed her temple in exhaustion. The other sinners had heard the ruckus as well and now, they all ran outside with their cell phones, cheering and filming the entire thing and leaving Charlie with no choice but to try and make them stop doing that.

Ah, I understood. It appeared that Charlie had been caught by somebody when she was trying to get to the library during break time, and now, she was forced to skip her free time and solve yet another dull problem.

That explained a lot.

I returned to the chaise longue and read a chapter from the book. Then I stood up, put it away and left the library.

Tomorrow was another day.  
  


**AaA**   
  


But the next day, Charlie didn’t show up either.

And neither did she the day after that.

Or the day after that.

It seemed the Demon Princess was avoiding the library – no, scratch that, avoiding _me:_ even outside of the room full of books, I didn’t get to talk to her anymore, let alone _see_ her. I sometimes caught glimpses of her, yes, but then she’d be gone in seconds, before I could even utter a single ‘hello’. 

I didn’t understand?

I had believed we had a grand time in the library. I appreciated her lovely company and till this week, I had thought she enjoyed mine as well. I foolishly longed for such... _plain_ things, like holding her petite hand and reading books with her by my side. She had gotten so close to me, and it would be _heavenly_ if she’d get even closer to me, if she’d let me hold her and take in her weirdly wonderful scent, if I could feel the beating of her gracious heart, the heaving of her chest and the warmth of her tender body... 

Everything felt better when Charlie was around.

But now… 

Now that feeling, that I had once begrudgingly accepted, in spite of the confusion it caused and the fear it created deep within me, the uncontrollable feeling I had refused to give a name – it started to turn into an insufferable agony, an illness, an injury I couldn’t treat myself for.

I had read about this phenomenon in multiple works of fiction. It always made me chuckle a bit, thinking that I’d never suffer from that mysterious disease everybody seems to ache for. I was different, after all. I’d never get worked up about something so insignificant. Good _heavens_ no, the mere thought alone! Ha ha!

Who’s laughing now, though?

I should have known my own hubris would eventually get the better of me – but I had never expected it to be like _this._

What now?

I wanted her to talk to me, but her adamant refusal to even let me see her worked against me. And of course, I could force or manipulate her or her friends and co-workers into talking to me and explaining just what was going on, but–

I didn’t want to.

Well how about them apples – I simply _didn’t want to_!

For the first time in forever, I didn’t want to _violently_ solve this problem, since I believed the second I’d resort to such drastic measures, I would only make things worse.

So I found myself in such a miserable pit of despair I almost found it humorous: why, this must be what dying again and roaming around in the void felt like! Like there was a huge, black nothingness in my chest, where something else was supposed to be.

Ha ha! Good _golly!_

**I hated it.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Sorrows of Young Werther' is a very sentimental book. It's about this guy that falls in love with a girl called Charlotte, who's already betrothed to another man. Still, Werther keeps foolishly hoping she'll chose him over her fiancé and grows pretty close to her, but alas: in the end, Lottie still choses her hubbie-to-be over poor Werther. So Werther kills himself. The end.  
> The book was a huge success in Goethe's days, but it was also rumored to cause a lot of suicides: many men believed that they loved their girls just as much as Werther loved his Lottie, and to prove it, they… well, killed themselves.  
> It was just a very persistent rumor, probably - but the book was still banned in at least three countries.


	12. Lolita (Vladimir Nabokov)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Husk begrudgingly tries to cheer up Charlie.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when none other than the Princess of Hell herself sat herself down on a barstool and just… let her head drop down on the bar like it hadn’t stuff like her brain and everything inside of it. Seriously – it landed on the wood with a harsh _thud_ and I even heard her utter ‘ow’ afterwards. 

Damn. The fuck was up with her today?

Wait a sec, now that I think about it, the girl had been kinda depressed all this week. Which was fuckin’ weird, because she’d been all kinds of irritating happiness just _last_ week. Like – I don’t know, like a love-struck moron. 

Not that I know much about that kind of thing. I lost the ability to form opinions on shit like that years ago. Good riddance. 

I looked around the living room. There was nobody else here, since all of them sinners were gone on some sort of field trip Vaggie had organised. Fuck. I was kinda bummed out Charlie was still here – thought I could have a nice little private booze party for myself, but _noooo,_ she just _had_ to stay at the hotel…

Well, better do what I do with most of my wasted patrons: show some empathy. 

_Ugh…_   
  


**HhH**   
  


I didn’t mind Charlie too much. Yeah, she was an annoying broad that always tried to see the best in people, even when there was obviously nothing good to be found in any of those assholes down here, but hey. At least she was giving it her all. I could appreciate hardworking people like her, even if it _was_ all for naught, if you’d ask me.

Charlie slowly lifted up her head, a red bump of some sorts starting to from on her forehead. She also had this nasty cut in her right cheek ever since a few days. She looked pretty beaten up altogether, actually – especially with those greyish bags under her eyes and her hair being all unruly and shit. 

"Here you go," I grumbled, throwing an icepack and a towel her way. It nearly smacked her in the face, but she managed to catch it at the last moment.

"Thanks, Husk," she said with a weak smile, wrapping the icepack into the towel and pushing it against her forehead. "You didn’t go with the others…?"

"So? Neither did you," I pointed out.

"Touché." She laughed lifelessly. "I wanted to, though! But Vaggie told me I should stay put and ‘get better’. I don’t get it. I mean, I’m not _sick_ or anything. I just feel like…"

"Like shit," I said. "And you look like shit as well."

"Wow. Thanks again."

"You’re welcome." I leaned on the bar, trying to look at her – _really_ look at her. "Dammit, are you gonna cry? Look, please don’t – I’m not good with crying people. Triggers me for some reason. Dunno why."

Charlie sniffed. "I won’t cry, I promise. I’m okay."

"I’m okay my _ass!"_ I frowned and crossed my arms. "You think you can fool me, missy? With your long, bruised face and wet eyes? What kind of idiot do you take me for – I’m a goddamn _bartender,_ dammit, I _know_ when shit has hit the fuckin’ fan!"

She winced. "Okay, okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m feeling kind of… miserable lately."

"Yeah no _shit,_ Sherlock. Now tell me. Go on – spill the beans."

She looked at me warily. Her big eyes were glassy and sad. I deepened my frown. Fuckin’ hell. I had _meant_ it, if she started bawling here, I was _out_ of here.

She didn’t, though, and wiped her nose with a cute little handkerchief. "You-you _swear_ you won’t tell it to anybody else, Husk?" 

I let out a curt snort. Yeah, as if I was going to bother anybody else with whatever _girly_ problem Charlie was dealing. It _had_ to be a girly problem, right: business at the hotel was doing fine, and she and Vaggie may had stopped dating, but they still were very friendly and shit to one another. Maybe she was having her period or something. Hell if I knew. What – it was possible! 

"Your secret’s safe with me," I told her, while pouring her a drink. "Here – have a load of this, calm down a bit and tell me what’s eating you, alright?"

I had just given her some plain white wine, simple and sweet, but she was grateful to get it and sipped a bit from it, taking deep breaths afterwards. 

Alright, at least she wasn’t pregnant. One thing to strike off the long girly-problems-list – and a fuckin’ _huge_ one too, thank god.

"It’s… it’s Alastor," Charlie said, folding her hands around the glass of wine. "He was… being mean to me."

I nodded, waiting for her to go on, but she didn’t.

"Wait – that’s it?" I clacked my tongue, glaring at her. "You’re like _this_ because that fuckin’ creep was _mean_ to you? Well newsflash, girly: that’s just what that motherfucker _is,_ a mean bastard! Big deal – just ignore him! We _all_ try to!"

Charlie sighed, staring at her glass.

Since she didn’t say anything, I went on: "Besides, what _gives,_ Charlie? That douchebag never bothered you all that much – hell, if fact, you seemed to handle that crazy sonofabitch’s antics best out of _all_ of us!"

Fuck _me_ if that wasn’t the truth! If _I_ had been in the princess' shoes, I’d have kicked that Radio Demon out a long, _long_ time ago already – but no, she got along with that fucker just fine. Until now, that is.

"You don’t get it," Charlie finally said, giving me an exasperated look. "This was different from his usual… you know, trolling. He really hurt me. I’m mad at him."

Had to admit, she _did_ look like somebody who had gotten badly hurt, yes – not per se because of the cut on her face or her tired appearance. No, it was something you couldn’t specifically see, but _feel._ You could feel she had been wounded in a way that was very difficult to get patched up. Most of the time, only people that you care about a lot can damage you like that.

But I, like she said, didn’t get it: Alastor _liked_ Charlie. Everybody with fuckin’ eyes in their skull could see how just much that sick fuck adored her – the asshole sure as hell wasn’t exactly _hiding_ it! There wasn’t anybody here he touched as much as he touched her, and the most fucked-up thing was that Charlie _didn’t mind it at all!_

So why the hell would Alastor ever knowingly do any harm to the _one_ person in this damned place that might be able to save that twisted soul of his?

Also, he was very much in love with her.

Really, totally fuckin’ over the _moon_ for her.

I didn’t care Angel claimed he wasn’t and that he was an asexual and what-not. Fuck that! As if that meant he couldn’t fall in love – and the red bastard had _clearly_ fallen for the princess! And I’ll be fuckin’ _damned_ if that feeling wasn’t mutual! I had even told Angel last week that if those two didn’t hook up within the year, I’d fuckin’ _eat_ my own eyebrows!

And these were some _fine_ eyebrows, dammit!

But anyway, now that I had reminded myself of this cute crush both Charlie and the Radio Demon had on one another, I understood Charlie’s sad demeanour a lot better. It was like I said: getting hurt by someone you like always hits you harder. 

"Alright then," I carried on at last, "just what did that evil asswipe do to you, huh?" 

Charlie took another gulp of her wine before answering me with a trembling lower lip. "He told me – he told me he would never be redeemed by anybody – _especially_ not by me."

I was surprised. "Seriously?"

"Yes. He laughed at me for even _thinking_ I could. In my _face."_

"That really creepy Alastor-y laugh?"

"That’s the one!"

"Yeesh." I shivered and felt bad for the poor girl. "Damn."

"So now, I… I don’t want to talk to him or even be in the same room as him, at least not for a little while. Unless I don’t have any other choice, of course, but… I rather not." She furrowed her brows and swallowed the last bit of wine. "He’s a jerk."

I grinned a bit at that – aww, she called him a jerk, that’s just adorable, especially in comparison to _my_ rich collection of swears and insults – and I wanted to reassure her things would be okay, that Alastor was just a big, stupid, red dipshit-fucker who probably, if I knew him well enough, hadn’t realised what impact his tactless words would have on her…

…but right at that moment, the room got temporarily blacked out all of a sudden by a dark cloud of magic, accompanied by a bang. Nothing too fancy – just a dry _bang._

Charlie didn’t waste any time: she instantly hid the glass, got up from her spot and disappeared out of the room so fuckin’ fast I was sure the girl had sprouted a pair of wings or something. The smoke-like cloud was still floating around onmiously by the time Alastor had actually become visible and made his way to the bar.

Oh god he was coming.

Oh _fuck me sideways._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't read 'Lolita' if you're easily swayed by pretty words and a funny, seemingly charming main character. No, seriously: don't. Because Humbert Humbert, Lolita's main character, is the most despicable fictional man that was ever written. He'll try to convince you that he's a nice guy, that he never willingly kidnapped Lolita and that she's a temptress, practically deceiving him and egging him on with her alluring looks and sweet body and all that jazz.  
> But Lolita (or Dolores, as her real name is) is just a 12-year-old girl. And Humbert's the one telling his side of the story.  
> I've never read a book that haunted me as much as 'Lolita' did. It's probably the best and most awful book I've ever read.  
> It also got a LOT of backlash - just guess why.


	13. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Victor Hugo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Husk begrudgingly tries to cheer up Alastor.

Shit was about to go down, I guess.

"Husker, my good friend!" Alastor started, fluttering his hands around to get rid of the smoke and dust and fuck _me_ if I knew what his magic was exactly containing, dammit. _"There_ you are! I was looking for you!"

I just gaped at him, like a damn idiot, and didn’t know what to say.

So I just… started polishing some glasses that were perfectly clean because _what fuckin’ else_ _was I supposed to do, huh_? 

He sat down on a barstool – and _of course_ he chose the _exact same_ fuckin’ barstool Charlie had been sitting on _just now_ – and eyed me silently, as if he was already trying to find clues about something (more like _somebody_ am I right) I was hiding from him. See that – wasn’t that just fuckin’ creepy? He hadn’t spoken a _word_ about Charlie yet and I already _knew_ he was going to bombard me with questions about her!

I shouldn’t have promised Charlie to keep quiet about her conversation with me, for fuck’s sake…

"What do you want, jackass," I grunted, since I had to say _something,_ eventually.

"My, such _foul_ language, and I’ve only just arrived!" he laughed, just like that invisible crowd of his.

"Yeah well, I’m in a bad mood, okay?"

"Good! Then that makes two of us."

Shit, _he_ was, too? 

Dammit, the last thing I needed was a fuckin’ _moody_ Alastor – I still remembered that one time he was ‘slightly agitated’: he blew up a _whole damn windmill_ , just for shits and giggles, and because its _vanes_ blocked the sun – or at least the thing that passes as a sun down here in Hell.

The Radio Demon put his elbows on the bar and rested his chin in his hands. His grin was wide, overbearing and yellow as usual. He then leered at me - and I _hated_ him _so much_ for not consistently _blinking._ He did that on _purpose,_ that _asshole,_ he sometimes just… stopped moving his damn eyelids, just to screw with the people around him!

"Business is slow today, I see," he then commented.

"No wonder," I replied. "Vaggie, Charlie and all of the hotel’s guests and sinners and what-not are on a field trip."

"A _field trip_?" He chuckled unpleasantly. "Well now! How delightful. I didn’t realize this hotel actually is a reform school! However, it _does_ explain all the bad apples and delinquents here. Ha ha!"

I shrugged. "Everybody looked forward to it, so who gives a shit."

"Hmm," Alastor mused. "And Charlie went with them, you said?"

"Yup." I was starting to sweat. Lying to that prick never was a very healthy thing to do, especially since he most of the time could tell if you were full of shit. But I had promised Charlie, dammit – and I wasn’t gonna break that promise.

Fortunately enough, Alastor _wasn’t_ aware I was lying through my teeth this time, that stupid bastard. His shoulders sank a bit and he uttered a surprisingly joyless: "Ah, well."

"So, uhm… do you need a drink or something?" I offered. Still a bartender, after all.

Wrong move. Alastor shot me a look that could fuckin’ _burn_ somebody alive.

"I don’t _drink_ on weekdays, Husker. You _know_ that."

Dark and red clouds were once again knitting together above the evil fucker’s head and the air became thick, as if all the oxygen was getting sucked out of it. In the meantime, Alastor kept his eyes, all red and glowy now, firmly locked onto mine, his mouth hidden behind his claw-shaped hands. _Shit._ I realised I had to do something – say something, _quickly,_ before that bastard was going to motherfuckin’ _blow up_ my bar, the _only_ thing in my afterlife that brought me _some_ joy, just because he felt like it. 

"Charlie’s pissed at you," I blurted out – and almost immediately wanted to kick my own ass. Oh for _fuck’s_ sake, Husk! _Really?_

I cursed and smacked myself in the face before shielding myself with a bottle of beer, not knowing whether I did or didn’t want to look at Alastor’s expression right now. The cat was out of the bag now, after all.

Astoundingly enough, the outburst I had expected to follow didn’t come. 

"So you noticed," he only said, a lot more subdued than I had ever heard him say.

I peeked from behind the bottle and gave him a bewildered look. "So you _knew?"_

He dismissively waved his hand at me, like he was swatting at a fly. "Yes yes, of course. One can only avoid me for so long before it starts to stand out, after all!" 

Alastor’s darkened aura didn’t light up and drive away those clouds above his head, now that it appeared he wasn’t going to trash the place, but they slowly dissolved. Like _poof._ He still looked very grim, though, no matter how much he tried to cover it up with that insane smile of his. He looked… he looked…

Sweet jesus, Alastor actually looked…

 _…vulnerable_ right now!

Holy _shit!_ Damn, I _never_ thought I’d live to see the day that…

Oh wait. I’m dead as a doornail. 

"Now, I’m unsure as to _why_ Charlie happens to be angry with me," Alastor started talking, just like that. "I was quite friendly with her all this time. We had a good bond going on. Why, we read _books_ together, Husker!"

I’m not sure what face I made when I heard that last bit. The hell?

"You and Charlie… read _books?"_

"Yes, on a daily basis, even! She didn’t tell you before she left just now?"

"No, she only complained to me about what a massive _dick_ you’ve been towards her this week."

I only figured out that I had, once again, dammit, put a huge, stinkin’ _foot_ in my mouth, when I saw Alastor’s hands clawing at the wooden surface of my bar, already leaving deep, angry marks in it. The screeching sounds of his long nails making tracks in the material chilled me to the bone. 

**"I knew you were lying."**

"Yeah, well, I didn’t know _you_ knew I was lying!" I stammered, like a dumb piece of shit, and went to seek cover behind my trusty bottle of beer again.

Alas, Alastor simply slid it aside, of course, because it was a damn bottle and not an electric _force field_ , and made me look at him. His eyes had gone full radio-dial-madness again and _fuck_ if that wasn’t the most disturbing think I had seen ever since Angel had showed me that messed-up porn magazine with the guy and the sprinkler!

"Husker – why did you lie about Charlie being on that stupid field trip? Why didn’t you tell me you’d spoken with her?"

"She made me promise I wouldn’t tell anybody, okay!" I nagged.

"Why not?"

"Because you told her something shitty and made her feel like _crap!"_

"I—"

"DAMMIT, WHY do I KEEP ON TELLING YOU SHIT I’m NOT supposed to TELL YOU?"

I socked myself in the face again, just because I fuckin’ _deserved_ it, and then I bonked my head against the surface of my wretched, feeble bar a couple of times, dammit, groaning loudly.

Then I had to stop – my bar was still very hard, after all, and I was giving myself a _killer_ headache.

All this time, Alastor had watched me in quiet curiosity, his grinning shit-face pestering me.

"…are you quite done harming yourself now?"

 _"Yeah_ I’m done," I sighed, massaging my head.

"Well good!" He chuckled, mildly amused. "Anything else I need to know, then?"

Since I had been busy making things only worse up till this point, I figured I might as well just cut the crap and tell him what Charlie told me about him. 

What – I was _fed up_ with hitting myself for that red bastard’s entertainment, okay? Just let me fuckin’ _be_ already!

So I sat down and told Alastor everything he needed to know, like an _asshole!_

Deal with it! 

  
**HhH**  
  


After I had mercilessly dunked _all_ of Charlie’s unwise faith in me _right_ into the trash bin, next to my already rotting self-worth and long-forgotten hopes and dreams, I opened up a bottle of beer, drank it all up in one big gulp and then grabbed the next one because hey, I was a _loose cannon_ now, no way back! 

Also, whenever I had drunk something, I was able to endure _any_ situation without shrinking back. Wasn’t impressed with _anybody_ as easily when I had some alcohol running through my veins. The gloves were fuckin’ _off_ now.

The Radio Demon hadn’t said much. Not only because he had actually _listened_ to me, for once (since it weren’t my words but _Charlie’s,_ originally), but also because he was at a loss for words right now. A radio host that didn’t know what to say – heh, I’d laugh if I didn’t feel like fuckin’ throwing up.

"Anyway," I said, taking another swirl of beer and ready to take the plunge, "you hurt her, Al. That’s awful, especially since you hurt – _her._ Charlie. You don’t want to hurt her."

He stared at me and let out a cold, unconvincing laugh. "Who says I **don’t** want to hurt her?"

"I do. You don’t want to hurt her. Need me to say it again?"

Maybe it was my imagination – fuck, it probably was – but it was like his smile got a bit more strained. As if he actually had to do his best to keep it that upward-shape. 

"Or _do_ you want to hurt her?"

Save for his annoying radio noises, he remained perfectly silent.

I scoffed. "What’s the chicken-hearted pause for? _Christ,_ man. Be fuckin’ _honest_ for once."

Alastor narrowed his eyes. "I _am_ honest! And I _always_ have been honest, _certainly_ towards Charlie."

"Yeah? So when you told her nobody, _especially not her,_ could get you out of Hell, you were, what, being totally _sincere?"_

"Yes!" Alastor said, profoundly confused. "I _was!_ She will _never_ get me redeemed, Husker! I’d rather just leap into the void myself! Why would I lie about that?"

Wha – I couldn’t _believe_ this guy! 

"Well _congrats,_ genius, because thanks to _that_ brilliant, brutal piece of honesty of yours, Charlie actually thinks you’re just playing her for a fool – she thinks she means _nothing_ to you!" I told him. I even jabbed an accusing finger in his chest, just to stress my point and because I seemed to have a death wish. 

**"Do** keep your furry paws to yourself," Alastor instantly responded, but thankfully merely slapped my hand away instead of ripping it off. "And that’s a _ridiculous_ accusation! Why, I can’t believe she’d really _think_ that! I'll have you known that I happen to think _very_ highly of her – highly enough to want to stay in this miserable mishmash after everybody else has upped and left!"

I pricked up my ears. 

Wait a minute. 

Things started to fall into place now. 

"You… _that’s_ your reason? _That’s_ why you won’t even give her a _chance_ to redeem you?"

He nodded impatiently. "Naturally, this doesn’t necessarily mean I _believe_ in her cause. Redeeming demons and such… No no – that’s still pure nonsense to me. But let’s face it, there have been more miraculous happenings happen throughout the ages, so I’d be childishly naïve if I paid no attention to the small, but not impossible possibility of Charlie actually succeeding!"

I did my best not to laugh.

God, but he was a _dense_ moron, wasn’t he? Holy _shit,_ what an unbelievable thick-headed _idiot_ the so-called fearsome, bloodthirsty Radio Demon was! 

Alastor saw my intense struggle, how I tried and failed to hide the huge, shit-eating grin that was sluggishly spreading itself all over my face. He crooked his neck in a disturbing fashion – but not even _that_ could stop my snickering.

"What happens to be so funny, Husker?"

"No, nothing, nothing at all," I said, giving him a condescending sneer, "after all, why search for Paradise when you’ve already _found_ your very own piece of Heaven, am I right, eh, Alastor?"

He didn’t respond.

He didn’t protest, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' was a pretty creepy Disney-movie. It had a scary bad guy, Quasimodo was tormented terribly by the people in town and Frolo almost killed him and his friends.  
> But! Just you go read the actual book, and you'll come to realize it's still almost cute in comparison to what happens with the poor characters in Hugo's book. Long story short: everybody sucks and nobody lives to see the ending of the tragic story. Quasimodo's characterisation and death is particularly jarring.  
> Now, this book is one of the Forbidden Books I have - but I can't seem to find why it was banned. If anything, the French LOVED this book and they even renovated the Notre Dame because of it! How about that!


	14. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoevsky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie finds a book in front of her bedroom. Husk and Angel Dust try to give Charlie some advice.

Almost a week after I had stopped coming to the library, I found a book in front of my bedroom door.

Just like that.

I had woken up, gotten out of bed, gotten myself dressed and walked out of the room, only to almost trip and break my ankle over that book lying around.

I fumed a bit as I looked at it, almost as if the book had personally insulted me with just being there. However, as always, my curiosity got the better of me, even though I knew there was only one person here in this hotel that could have put the work of fiction down in front of my bedroom. 

So I groaned, but picked up the book from the ground anyway.

It was a novel. I think. This, too, was written by a woman, and the story was even older than the last one. It had gotten a lot more pages than the last couple of books I had read and I felt kind of awesome for a moment: look at me, working myself up from the really thin books to the scary big ones! That’s progress for you! I’d be reading big, fat doorstoppers in no time!

But then I was reminded of Alastor and his mean words again, and my mood abruptly got overshadowed by this nagging feeling of sadness and anger. 

I still wasn’t over that spat of ours. Well, I _mostly_ was, kind of, but whenever I thought about him, accidentally, I got this weird, sour feeling in my gut and I just got this urge to – I don’t know, throw something against the wall!

I didn’t want to face him already. I knew it would only get harder the more I ignored or _tried_ to ignore him, but it was just too uncomfortable to just walk up to him and talk it out. I mean, I had always known he laughed at my redemption plan, but now that I knew he wasn’t planning to comply with my request to try and get him into Heaven either – well – it made me wonder: just what was he trying to cook up? Why was he still _here?_

Was Vaggie right? Had he indeed been trying to just get a grasp on me and my hotel and use us for something far more sinister than just… watching people fail to redeem themselves? Was he, instead of helping me, going to stab me in the back like that?

But I thought he liked me.

 _Really_ liked me, you know?

Maybe I secretly _hoped_ he liked me.

I hastily shook my head, clutched the book to my chest and went back into my bedroom. N-no no no. Noooo. I didn’t care I missed our time at the library, or that I longed for him to take my hand in his again, or that my heart always either sank or skipped a beat when I saw him nowadays – I wasn’t going to say it! Or even _think_ it!

He didn’t deserve it – that bastard just _didn’t!_

I sat down on my bed with a slight thud and looked at the book. Was I going to read it? Did I actually still wanted to read the works he recommended to me? It wasn’t like his choices had brought me much joy up to this point. _The Vanishing_ had left me feeling awful and hopeless, while _The Yellow Wallpaper_ had just confused me to no end with its cryptic last page. 

Still, I had liked the act of reading them. I had liked experiencing these emotions and feelings, just by reading something – just by making inky words on old paper actual living and breathing stories in my mind. If it hadn’t been for Alastor, I’d have never found out I could get this affected by a mere book. 

And this book – by the looks of it, it actually was a book that _met_ my standards, for once. It was a romantic story about a headstrong, quirky young woman and a stubborn, prideful young man, if I understood the summary on the backside of it correctly, and apparently, it was a must-read for everybody that loved classic romances.

I couldn’t help a faint smile appearing on my face as I let the pages run through my fingers. Alastor could have read this when he was still alive. Would he actually have wanted to read this, in-between his killing sprees? Would he have been able to understand it, even? I got to the end of the book – and then a small, folded white paper that had been jammed inside of the book flew from the pages. 

I managed to catch it mid-air – I was quick like that! – and frowned at it upon recognizing Alastor’s neat handwriting in red ink. Of _course_ it had to be red ink.

…it _was_ ink, right?

I stared at my name written on it for a little while, before opening the note.

  
_Dearest Charlie,_

_Today, I expect to meet you in your library on the fourth floor, at the usual time. Please be there. I’ve got something to share with you that might interest you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Alastor_

_P.S.: I do hope you’ll bring along this book. I think it suits you!  
  
_

I snorted at the paper and crumbled it into a papery ball. That note had been nothing but a freaking _order,_ for god’s sake! Yeah, like that was going to convince me to talk to him again! I didn’t give a crap about whatever kind of nonsense Al wanted to share with me – maybe it was yet another thinly-veiled insult, to make me feel like I couldn’t do anything right and that it was all my own fault!

No _thank_ you!

He could just… just take a hike, for all I cared, ‘cause I wasn’t going to look him up!  
  


**CcC**   
  


When it was time for my break a few hours later, I was _more_ than ready for it! 

I waltzed right to the bar, where Angel Dust and Husk were as well, and sat down with a rebellious grin.

There! 

I was _here,_ and not on my way to the library!

Fear my perseverance! 

"I want a drink! Hit me up with that shit!" I shrieked to Husk, who visibly cringed.

"Whoa. Everything alright there, princess?" Angel commented, lifting up an eyebrow. "You look kinda, I dunno, rampageous? Like you sliced some poor sucker up and liked it or something."

I gasped and my ego deflated in an instant. "I-I did nothing like that! I just… want something to drink, that’s all!’"

"Yeah, don’t think so." Husk scoffed. "It’s barely noon, Charlie – no way I’m giving you anything strong. You can get a soda pop. Or some sparkling water with a slice of lemon. Isn’t that what all the kids and hipsters are drinking these days?"

"Kinda hypocritical of you to say, since you’ve been downing these beers all morning long…" Angel Dust said in a sing-song tone, putting one of his legs over the other one as he leaned back against the bar. 

Husk swore and shot daggers at the spider demon. "Would _you_ just shut your trashy trap already, dammit! Go bug somebody else!"

"Whatcha got there?" Angel asked me, pretending like he hadn’t heard Husk, and pointed his many long, slender fingers at the book in my hands.

I froze right up, all of a sudden wondering why I had brought the stupid book to the bar in the first place. "Uhm… nothing! Nothing much, just… a book, something for me to read, during my break?"

"You _read_ in your spare time?" Angel gave me a look filled with nothing but plain _horror._ _"Damn,_ Charlie, I knew you smelled like vanilla, but I didn’t know you were outright _pudding!_ You're so _boring!"_

I thought back to the nerve-wrecking first book and the mind-boggling second book I had read and got annoyed. 

"Hey! Reading _isn’t_ boring! I bet you’re only saying that because you’ve never read _anything!_ You don’t even know what you’re talking about!"

"Gee whiz, _Charles,_ no need to get you cutesy polkadot-panties in a twist," Angel Dust grinned – and then he swiped my book, straight out of my hands!

"Wha – _Angel!"_

He raised all of his hands in a defensive manner. One of them teasingly waved the book just over my head, in a way I could almost reach it, but just not quite. "Whaaat? I wanna see what’s so fucking great about this luxury firewood, you _mind?_ Just lemme see… ooooh, I hope it’s got some goooooood steamy, sexy scenes in it…" 

_"No!_ Give it back! Give! It! Back!" I tried to jump for it, but that only made him and some other hotel guests laugh at my pathetic attempts to retrieve my book. I didn’t give up, though, I _never_ gave up, after all, and I managed to _juuuust_ tip the side of the book, surprising Angel Dust and making him drop the novel.

"Ha!" I triumphed, snatching the book from the ground and swinging it around victoriously. 

"Ha HA!" Angel shot back, grinning evilly at me as he slowly revealed to me he now had Alastor’s crumpled up note. It had probably fallen out of my pocket when I was hopping up and down just now. 

I almost dropped the book again.

"What – that’s mine!"

"Yea, I can tell – that’s your name alright. Nicely written, too! Wonder why it’s all crushed together though…" Angel Dust started unfolding the note. "Why does it say ‘page 171’ on the back?"

"No, don’t – wait, you can actually _read,_ Angel?"

He let out a feminine, outraged little shriek. "What the–! Don’t insult me, blondie, of _course_ I can fucking _read!"_

"Oh, sorry. I mean, no! Don’t read it! _Don’t read it, dammit!_ " 

This time, I succeeded way quicker in stealing my possession back from the spider demon… but Angel’s self-righteous face told me that I had been too late: he had read enough. I let out a pained wheeze and stiffly put the note away in my pocket – not that _that_ would help anything.

"Well oh well oh _well!"_ Angel said, chuckling and gloating as he bowed towards me. "Is that… a _love letter,_ Charlie? I didn’t read all of it, but I _did_ notice it was written by our batshit-insane friend, the strawberry pimp…"

"It’s _not_ a love letter!" I said, although my traitorous face started to heat up. "It’s… it’s just a _note,_ that’s all!"

Angel pressed his lips together, as if he was holding back laughter. "Oh god, don’t tell me – does that smiling and walking stop sign _fancy_ the demonically saintly hybrid-princess? Is he like trying to _woo_ you with these little letters? Using some cheesy high-class words and everything, like, ‘oh my darling Charlotte, would you kindly enjoy the next starry night together with me and also check out this sweet dick pic I took earlier! Not too shabby now, or is it, sugartits?’"

I raised a hand to my mouth. "Oh my GOD, Angel!" 

"Yeah, just leave it to you to get all nasty with something as innocent as a fuckin’ note," Husk told Angel (who just shrugged and stuck out his tongue). The cat demon then turned to me and growled. "Never mind _that_ hussy. He’ll find something sexual in _everything._ Even… uh, potatoes. But tell me, Charlie, are you _sure_ you’re supposed to be here right now?"

His bleak, sombre eyes told me this question was a lot more serious than it appeared to be. Still, I tried to dismiss his comment and smiled weakly.

"I don’t see why not, I’m just… having my break here!"

"Maybe you _shouldn’t_ have your break here, if you catch my drift." He even winked and nudged me while saying it.

I hesitated. "Husk, do you… _know_ something?"

"No." He suddenly avoided my eyes. "But Alastor does know. Like, um. Everything."

Huh, what did he mean with—

Then it clicked.

 _"What!"_ I slammed my hands on the bar and did my best not to get too angry – I hated what happened whenever I got too angry. "Husk, you _promised_ me you wouldn’t tell anybody – and you went and told him _everything? Him,_ of all people? What were you _thinking!"_

"Am I missing something?" Angel asked no one in particular.

"Look I’m sorry, alright! He just started getting violent with my bar! I was panicking!" Husk explained. "The guy looked fuckin’ _depressed,_ too!"

"I _am_ missing something," Angel carried on. 

"He… looked depressed?" This news calmed me down again, somewhat. "Could you _tell?_ Did he… _frown?"_

"Heh – the day Alastor’s frowning is the day Hell will freeze over," Husk grunted. "I just _know,_ alright? I’ve known that jackass for pretty damn long time now, so I can tell when he’s down in the dumps. No stupid, fake-ass smile can fool _this_ old boozehound."

"But you’re a cat," Angel said.

 _"Why_ are _you_ still _here,"_ Husk groaned.

"So you know about the note… and you think I should do what is says?" I furrowed my brows. "I don’t know…"

"Just _go,_ Charlie. You’ve got literally nothing to lose. Besides, that thing says it all." Husk pointed a hairy claw at the book in my arms. "You were thinking about going to him anyway, weren’t you."

 _"Contemplating_ about it. Contemplating about it _very_ earnestly," I sternly corrected him, but it lacked the venom it should have.

"Well I’d hurry up with that if I were you – your break’s almost over," Husk pointed out – and I gasped, again, and hurriedly gathered my things, fixing my hair and my clothes a bit. Maybe too obviously, though: I saw Angel Dust grinning teasingly at me.

"Aw, don’t worry sweetums, you look _fine,"_ he said. "Now just add some rouge to those cheeky cheeks of yours and you’re ready to suck some serious dick!"

I stared at him. 

Angel gave me many supportive thumbs-ups in response.

"Thanks, Angel. I guess."

"Anytime, Charlie!"

Then I just… walked away. Away away away.

"Seriously, what the _fuck_ have you been smoking," I could hear still Husk grumble at the spider demon as I left all of them behind. 

Okay, so…

To the library it is, then…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't read 'Crime and Punishment' either! Yup yup, it's a crying shame. I will, though! I'm planning on reading it.  
> According to the backside/summary of my book, the story's about a poor student called Raskolnikov. He commits two murders. He tries to justify his actions by telling himself he needed the money he stole from one of his victims and he'll use the money to do great deeds, but the guilt starts to torment him and he falls into great despair because of it. A tale about good versus evil, really.  
> The book's often placed on banned book lists because of its utterly dark nature. It also messes with your head.


	15. Lady Chatterley's Lover (D. H. Lawrence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon entering the library, Charlie discovers a sleeping Alastor.

When I arrived at the library’s door, I didn’t go inside of it right away.

Which wasn’t really smart. I mean, I already was late: my break time would be over in less than a half hour. I kind of had left Alastor hanging. He’d probably be pretty ticked off about it…   
B-but still! If he was going to complain or be creepy about my tardiness, I was going to smack him across the face _real_ hard! He was the one that made me feel bad, so he should be happy I showed up at _all,_ for god’s sake! 

I just… didn’t know what I should say when I’d go in there and see him sitting on the chaise longue, looking all smirky and jerkish and what-not. I’m not stupid: I didn’t expect any apology from him. Alastor didn’t _do_ apologies. He was the kind of guy that was convinced he was always right and everybody that didn’t agree with him – well – he wouldn’t care. If they had a problem with his mind-set, then _tough._ Cry him a river, he’d just laugh at you.

But wait a minute, if that blockhead wasn’t going to say sorry to me, and if I already knew he wasn’t going to, then why the hell was I even looking him up in the first place? I should just turn around and walk away again! Like hell I cared what else he needed so ‘share with me’, or whatever his stupid note told me!

It could have something to do with the… discussion we had, though. 

Yeah. Discussion, right? I touched my face. The cut had healed up already, and I can’t say it had really bothered me in the end, but I was _fed up_ with getting hurt by Alastor – either by his words or his ridiculous, allergic responses to my – very careful even! – touches. He had held my hand for hours now, so he had no right to still act all spastic about it and lash out at me (unwittingly, probably, but still) because oh geez, PHYSICAL CONTACT with ANOTHER BEING! _Scandalous!_

Anyway, I inhaled deeply, exhaled, and inhaled again, preparing myself to go in. Whatever I felt, whatever it was he was planning to tell me, and whatever I was going to do with all of that combined – it wouldn’t change the fact that he still was a co-worker of mine. A helper. Somebody I sometimes needed to _listen_ to. Communication was important in every relationship, after all. No matter what kind of relationship that was. 

I held my face in my hands and gently smacked my cheeks. That always energized me. 

Right! Let’s do this. 

  
**CcC  
  
**

I opened the door to the library and entered it. I did my best to give off this absolutely _haughty_ and _frosty_ aura as I did so, and I think that all those years of watching mom effortlessly make these kind of arrogant faces to anybody she thought was inferior actually paid off in the end: I didn’t hear a peep out of Alastor, and I just knew he could see me, since the long, low couch was really close to the library’s entrance. 

Nice going, me!

I stalled at the door, you know – closing it _really_ slowly and sighing and flipping my hair boorishly and everything… and then I suddenly – _bam!_ – looked at him, giving him the _**coldest,**_ most **_terrifying_** glare I had in my arsenal.

"So what do you _want,_ Alas…"

He was sound asleep.

"…tor," I ended my sentence feebly.

Oh.

…oh?

I wasn’t aware Alastor could actually _sleep._

What – of _course_ he could, Charlie, _god!_ Everybody needs to sleep every now and then – even overbearing overlords!

But Alastor didn’t seem the type that’d just doze off in any other room than his own bedroom. I mean, he was all about having control and not showing any weaknesses, right? Well, napping away in the middle of a library that was a _public_ (albeit secret) place wasn’t exactly showing just how powerful he was. In fact, he looked pretty defenseless right now. If I wanted to, I could actually prank him or something.

 _If_ he actually was asleep, that was…

I frowned and pressed my book against my chest while I casually, but cautiously, approached his sleeping form.

He had a pretty funky sleeping position, by the way. He was sitting up, straight as an arrow, his elbows loosely hanging on the backrest of the chaise longue, while his head was just… flopped to the side. His eyes were closed, which meant I had won that bet with Angel Dust: he had said he knew for sure Alastor kept his eyes _wide open_ in his sleep. _Ughhhhhhh,_ some sight _that_ would have been…

Upon closer inspection, I noticed he was still grinning. No surprise there, really. On his lap rested the closed book he had been reading for the past few weeks. There was no bookmarker in it anymore, so I suppose he actually finished reading it today. It was an old, humongous _monster_ of a book and I wondered what it had been about. Maybe he’d tell me if I asked him.

Eventually, I got to were Al was and stood still in front of the sleeping Radio Demon, pondering about what I should do next.

I could just wake him up.

He looked like he needed this nap, though.

He also looked kind of cute like this.

NO.

No.

I did NOT just think Alastor was CUTE. That was the same as thinking Angel was innocent: _unforgivably_ wrong.

But anyway, my parents always told me to let sleeping dogs lie. Perhaps the same could be said about sleeping… deer demons: just leave them alone and wait until they wake up by themselves. 

Well, okay then. I mean, I had a book right here, I could just.. sit down and read until Al either woke up or when it was time for me to pick up my work duties again. I’d leave and send Niffty to wake him up later and no harm would be done, right?

Right.

So, I sat down next to him, as I usually did, and turned the first page of my book.

Unfortunately, the slight impact of me, flopping down next to Alastor’s unsteady frame a tad too carelessly, caused him to wobble a bit and ultimately _fall over_ – against me.

 _Flush_ against me. His face landed somewhere in my hair, I think.

Oh god.

 _Oh god_.

He had never been this close to me before.

But! Although I was startled, I didn’t move an _inch:_ I had kind of expected Alastor to immediately wake up at this intrusion, and when that happened, I needed to keep my composure as steady as I could. I’d possibly have an advantage over him then, on the spur of the moment, so no _way_ I was going to lose my cool here.

He didn’t wake up though. 

He _did_ snuggle _closer_ to me, muttering something unintelligible into my hair, and lazily raised his arms to wrap them around me. Not forcefully, not suddenly, heck, not even _consciously_ – but he did it and he did it with a delighted sigh.

I blushed profoundly and tried to keep on breathing as I realized he was _hugging_ me – not hugging me like any _normal_ person would hug me, but hug me like somebody who had been deprived of physical affection for his whole life, somebody who’d been aching for some simple contact like this for _ages._ He pulled me against him, moving our bodies together and just – just kept on moving closer to me, not allowing any little bit of space to come in between us. 

His chest was _firmly_ pressed against mine at one point. It was all kinds of exciting, to be honest. His hands fluttered over my sides, crept over my back, stroke the back of my neck, gripped my waist. Every touch left behind a tingling, burning feeling of _need_ and _wanton_ and I was too stunned, too perplexed and just plain too _willing_ to stop him.

God, if anything, I actually wanted _more._

I shouldn’t, though – at least not like _this,_ with Alastor not even being aware of what he was doing to me. I – I should stop this, right now. 

So I managed to lift my quivering, sweaty hands and grabbed the back of his coat, my nails digging into the fabric, faintly trying to both get a grip on myself as I tried to get a grip on him. All I needed now was to just – just pull him off of me—

And then he affectionately nuzzled my neck, rubbing his nose against my hot skin, and, finally, kissing it.

It was too much – it was way, _way_ too much incitement for me, and I let out a soft moan.  
  
Not soft enough, however.

Alastor abruptly stopped doing whatever he was doing and became completely rigid, for a second of two. Then, he slowly lifted himself off of me. His eyes were wide open and he stared down at me, speechless, his grin bordering on maniacal.

I still just laid there, my hair fanned out all over the couch, panting and sheepishly looking up at him.

"Hi," I said.

It was almost comical, the way his eyes just kept on growing bigger and bigger. His monocle even fell out of his eye socket at a certain moment. He poked my face with a trembling finger. He instantly retracted it when it touched my flesh.

"You’re real," he stated. "You’re here. You’re not a dream I had."

"I’m real," I nodded, almost apologetically. "And I’m here."

At that, Alastor jumped off me and the couch sofa thing as _fast_ as he could, backing off as far as the bookcases would allow him to go, before crashing with his back into a particular unstable one. One shelf didn’t take that kind of abuse and _collapsed_ right on top of him, burying the Radio Demon underneath a sea of books.

"Al!" I stammered. I got off the chaise longue as well and hastily came to his aid. 

Alastor simply emerged from the heap of books, though, as if nothing noteworthy had happened, and dusted his clothes off with rapid, blunt pats. Meanwhile, he avoided all eye contact with me.

"Well! Just look at the mess I have made. Unforgivable! Those poor books did _nothing_ wrong!"

I raised a hand. "Uhm, should I…"

He shook his head right away, not even giving me the chance to explain myself. 

"No no no no, I’ve got this, my love. _Charlie._ Yes – Charlie. That’s what your name is!"

As I awkwardly watched Alastor pick up and put away the books, I could hear his radio public roar with laughter – I also heard a pretty sarcastic slow-clap applause, like his own invisible public was actually mocking him. 

Feeling bad for him, I decided it probably was best to retreat to the couch again and wait for Alastor to calm down.

I had noticed my break time was over, but I didn’t care at all. This was more urgent than doing some boring administrative work, after all.

We _really_ needed to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The publication of the heavily criticized book 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' was a huge happening during the sexual revolution in the 1960s. It was in many debates and people in many countries, like the US, Australia, Canada, India and Japan, tried to ban it because of the extremely erotic/sexual contents of the book.  
> It's a story about the affair between the high-class lady Constance (aka Lady Chatterley aka Connie) and her gamekeeper, Oliver. Connie is stuck in an uneventful wedding, because her husband, Sir Clifford Chatterley, is paralyzed from the waist down and neglects her because of that - both physically and emotionally. Connie then finds solace in the arms of the ordinary working class man Oliver. Again and again and again. My oh my.  
> Miraculously enough, the book has a sort-of happy ending: Connie and Clifford get a divorce and Connie ends up with Oliver. She has to give up her wealth to be with him, but she doesn't mind that and they live a happy, yet simple life together.


	16. All Quiet on the Western Front (E. M. Remarque)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor recalls the way he died. Charlie confronts Alastor with the hurtful things he told her earlier.

I could still _vividly_ recall the moment in which I came to realize I was going to die a truly horrible death.

I had been out in the woods, burying my latest victim in the cold, hard earth, after my night shift at the local radio station had ended – I had kept the body in my car all day long. It was raining a little, but I hadn’t mind that one bit. I enjoyed the rain. It washed away the sweat, the dirt – the blood. No no, if it was up to me, it’d rain every day, simple as that!

Just after I had thrown the last bit of dark sand on top of the grave of the dull woman I’d done in earlier that week, I heard something rustling through the bushes. There was a loud, shrill whistling noise coming through the black, quiet night – a dog whistle, an object most hunters with dogs carried with them. 

Up to that point, I never minded nor cared all that much for dogs. They were just dogs, nothing more, nothing less. 

Anyhow, I had to remind myself that the hunter would most likely have some questions for me if he found me in the woods, wet and dirty with dark stains on my clothes and face, and a well-used shovel in my hands. I could take on one silly little hunter, no problem – but he had a pack of excited dogs with him, and therefore, he was well-guarded. I, on the other hand, wasn’t. So I picked up my things and started to skulk away from the now audible barking of dogs. 

Alas, I was too slow: I heard the huntsman yell at his hounds he had spotted something - and next thing I knew, he released them.

I was pretty quick on my feet, even though I was already in my early thirties, but not even a nimble, fast killer could outrun big, strong, enraged hunting dogs that had smelled the unmistakable scent of blood – and it wasn’t even _my_ blood, mind you. Not _yet,_ that was.

The dogs caught up with me in no time. I tried to keep on running – fighting them off was a certain death for sure – but to no avail. Before I could even decently register it, a hound had sunk his sharp, white teeth into the flesh of my calf and dragged me down into the mud. Another one went for my arm, clutching it with his jaws and roughly shaking his head, tearing apart my skin and the veins right underneath it. Then a dog caught my other leg and then my head was chopped at – the creature crushed my face simultaneously with my glasses, the glass falling into my open wounds. Paws slashed at my torso, teeth disappeared into my neck and my wrist, there was blood everywhere, I could hear the snapping of bones, _my_ bones, and there was nothing – just _nothing_ that I thought of at that moment.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Then the huntsman came, at last, and the poor man – an elderly fellow, with a crooked back and a frail looking demeanour – gasped for breath when he saw what his devilish dogs had done to me.

"That’s no deer," I heard him choke out.

If I still was able to speak, I’d have agreed with him in a very cynical tone, I’ll have you know. But it’s quite difficult to talk when your broken mouth is filled with glass, pieces of the teeth you used to have and dog hair. 

Nonetheless, I was still conscious at that moment. I was dying – I had seen the streams of thick blood running out of my mauled body – but I was still _alive._ And I was in agony. I don’t think I had ever experienced so much fear, adrenaline and pain, and all of that at _once,_ even!

I didn’t want to die.

Ironic, no?

The killer, who played around with death like it was his own loyal playmate, actually _feared_ it.

But it had found him.

It had found _me._

And then the hunter, who understood I was a goner and didn’t want me to suffer anymore, that kind fool, gently put the shaking, unsteady barrel of his gun against my bloodied face, in-between my eyes.

"Forgive me – please, god, _forgive me…!"_

Right _then._

Right at _that_ moment.

It was the absolute worst.

And I knew it, too.

I was about to be put out of my misery, but not by a vengeful loved one of a former victim of mine, or even by the hands of somebody who was at least as deranged as I was – no no, I was going to get killed by a nice, near-sighted old man who had mistaken me for a deer.

Goodness, I was so embarrassed, I could just die!

Good thing I did.

  
**AaA**

  
I had been quite a while since the last time I had felt that same raw, painful, mortifying distress as I did on the day I died. But waking up with my face buried in Charlie’s neck, taking in her scent, with my limbs tangled around her accepting body, holding on to her so, _so_ tightly and desperately that there was barely any trace of malice or manipulation in my actions left…

Well. Like that time I got myself killed – this, too, was so thoroughly _disgraceful_ in my eyes that it ruthlessly broke a part of my very being.

Also, having seen Charlie’s dark eyes look up at me like that, her flushed expression an exotic mixture of pity, desire, affection and bewilderment – it had been the single most beautiful thing I had ever witnessed, in both my human life as in this godforsaken afterlife.

It struck me when those fifteen books also struck me, crashing down on top of me when I tried to get away from it – from her – from Charlie – from _everything_ she was representing.

This wasn’t just a silly infatuation.

And I couldn’t cope with it.

How could I ever cope with something that was so irrelevant to everything I was, everything I claimed to be?

Well I _couldn’t,_ surely!

And I had seldom experienced stress before, but _believe you me_ that I was currently getting eaten by nothing more than the sheer _horror_ of not only _realizing,_ but also _accepting_ that I had slowly, but surely started to become somebody I _never_ had hoped nor wanted to be.

Ha ha ha! Well, I’ll _be!_

Well!

Well.

Wasn’t that just **godawful?**

  
**AaA**   
  


Although I’d much rather fled the library right then and there, since I needed to digest the information that was getting more and more blatantly obvious the more I thought about it, I didn’t.

Oh I definitely _wanted_ to.

But after I had cleaned up the bookshelf I had knocked over and turned around, Charlie was right _there,_ on the chaise longue. She waited for me, I could tell, and fumbled with her hair, as she always so adorably did. 

It was enough – just that shy, nonsensical act – and I came to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t leave this place before I had spoken to her, first.   
  
So I cleared my throat and briskly walked over to the couch, my smile as cunning and unreadable as any other random day, and gave her a little nod. She held a small first-aid kit in her hands, I noticed. 

"What’s the matter, Charlie? You seem so thoughtful! Everything alright?"

She cocked an eyebrow. _"Seriously,_ Al? Are you just going to act like nothing happened?"

I made a valiant attempt to laugh her comment off, but it fell flat when Charlie’s determined stare kept trying to burn a hole through my face. 

"Well!" I therefore said. "I…"

"You…?" Charlie egged me on.

"Frankly, I don’t quite know what to say." I fiddled with my microphone’s stand. I felt pretty foolish.

Charlie gave me a small smile. "That’s okay, Al. I’ll start, if that’s easier for you."

She patted her small hand on the couch’s seat eagerly. 

It was cute.

I both hated and loved that I thought it was cute.

Still, I swiftly sat down on the chaise longue. This time, however, I kept my distance from Charlie. I had learned the girl wasn’t fazed by my fruitless efforts to take physical control over certain situations anymore. Even worse, being close to her probably wouldn’t help me at _all_ in this scenario, so I stayed put.

So of course, Charlie _instantly_ scooted closed to me, and gave my face a long, hard look-over.

I kept my smile straight. "Yes…?"

"I knew it - you’re bleeding," she pointed out, and, after a moment of hesitance, raised a hand, wanting to put it on the side of my face.

Before she got that far, though, I instinctively dodged her hand, and shook my head.

"You know I despise touching."

She frowned. "Oh really? You could’ve fooled me a couple of minutes ago."

That blunt remark caused my radio audience to act up again and they cheered and roared _loudly_ for the Princess of Hell.

I was only able to stare at her, feeling extremely agitated.

 _"Please_ let me touch your face, Alastor," Charlie asked me, a bit gentler. "You’ve got a pretty nasty slash on your forehead, right above your eyebrow – you wouldn’t like it if blood started to drip into your eye, would you?" 

"Why not? That sounds like a decent look for me," I joked. "I’m as red as red can be, after all!"

"Are you also _red-y_ ," she started saying, opening up a package of moist, sterile gauzes, "for _this?"_

Her goofy, stupid pun was just _terrible,_ as was the big, dopey grin she accompanied her pun with. She even pointed to the cloths and said "Get it? Eyyy."

I let out an undignified snort.

"Good _golly,_ Charlie – that was plain _atrocious!"_

"I know, right?" She chuckled and wanted to say something else, but I then took her hand – the one with the sterile gauze in it – and led it to my forehead.

"Go ahead, then. You’ve earned it." 

Charlie blushed profoundly at that, clearly caught by surprise, and gave me a silent nod.

Upon seeing that timid reaction, I became sharply aware that this cute, puzzling thing that was happening between us was just as awkward for her as it was awkward for me. For some reason, that little piece of wisdom relaxed me somewhat and the tension quickly lessened. 

  
**AaA**   
  


"I actually didn’t want to come at all, you know," Charlie said, while tending my wound. "Your rude little note made me angry and I just wanted to ignore it altogether."

Well, that did explain why she showed up so late.

"Why did you come anyway, then?" I wanted to know. 

Her tongue stuck a bit out of her mouth as she put a band aid on my forehead. "Husk convinced me I should go and meet up with you."

 _"Husker_ did? My, how _bafflingly_ kind of him!"

"He seemed worried about you."

I had to laugh sarcastically at that. ‘Why of _course_ he was, my dear! And he also likes to put on a tutu and perform _The Nutcracker_ while whistling a lovely little tune on Sundays!"

Charlie pulled back her hands and made a tsk-sound. "I _mean_ it – he thought you looked depressed."

"A laughable thought, really."

"At first, I thought so, too." Charlie was finished cleaning up and tending the cuts many works of literature had left on me and closed the first aid kit, lowering her head. "I thought… you’re not capable of feeling sad. Of feeling… _anything._ I also thought you… don’t think too highly of me, to be honest."

"That’s pure nonsense, my dear." I placed a hand underneath her chin and lifted up her face again. "Why would you think that?"

She sniffled, gripping my wrist. It startled me a bit, but I recognized her warm, kind touch and let it slide. Besides, I had told her she was allowed to take my hand. I shouldn't go back on my word. 

"Y-you said that nobody will ever get you out of Hell, _especially not me_ ," she explained.

"That’s right," I nodded.

"That was hurtful."

"I see. Still, I didn’t want to lie to you." I now cupped her tender, squishy round face in both of my hands. 

In turn, she quietly studied _my_ face – again.

"You _didn’t,_ did you?" she then softly said. "You didn’t say those things in order to hurt me. You tried to say something _else._ Right?"

I remained quiet, tenderly rubbing her delightfully pink cheeks, making them even pinker in the process. I suddenly felt an urge I just couldn’t resist and I slowly pulled her face closer to mine.

She took hold of both of my wrists with both her hands, a bit firmer this time, and I found it mesmerizing how gorgeously her eyebrows knitted together like that, how hurriedly her breaths left her half-opened mouth.

"T-tell me, Alastor," she stuttered. "Why… why won’t I be able to get you to Heaven…?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read 'All Quiet on the Western Front' three years ago. It is a depressing story about a young German WWI-soldier named Paul who undergoes tons of stressful events that (mentally) exhausts both him and his comrades as they all, one by one, die in battle... or in other, less honorable circumstances. The title is both a truth and a blatant lie, by the way... but you'll have to read the book (or the spoilers) to know what I'm talking about. Very dreary book.  
> It got banned (and burned) during WWII because of its negative depictions of war. It was considered an anti-war book, and Hitler wouldn't have a fellow German write bad things about warfare… or any other writer, really.


	17. 1984 (George Orwell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie slowly but surely realizes what Alastor _really_ meant to tell her.

All of a sudden, Alastor moved his face further away from mine and let out an amused, yet somewhat strangled laugh, effectively ruining the electrifying tension that had been brewing between the two of us.

"My, is it _that_ hard for you to figure out, my dear? Why I don’t want you to ‘save’ me?"

It took me a while to register he was actually _talking_ to me and _not_ smooching the living daylights out of me.

"Oh," I therefore said, dazed. "Yes. Um… yeah! Yeah. Please explain."

  
**CcC  
  
**

For a moment, I really thought he was going to kiss me.

I mean, it certainly _looked_ like he was going to.

He had caressed my cheeks, responded to some of my questions in a calm voice and hadn’t, not even for a second, looked away from me. Or, should I say, from my lips.

He had even started to move my face closer to his.

I… didn’t know if I had wanted him to kiss me. I hadn’t really thought about it yet, so I had wrapped my hands around his wrists, ready to tear them away from me, in case he really was going to lock lips with me and I happened to change my mind at the last second. I firstly wanted to know what he had meant by telling me he wouldn’t let help get him to Heaven. 

I needed to know – I couldn’t give in until I knew!

But my unsteady hands were trembling all the while. 

I kept telling myself I shouldn’t want to – but my body betrayed me. I knew it wouldn’t protest. It would cave in _right_ away.

Still – I had to ask him – I just had to ask him – even if he was going to successfully steal a kiss from me that he’d gotten form me anyway, I still – still at _least_ wanted to be able to look at myself in the mirror later that day and tell myself ‘well you _tried’._

So here I was, bracing myself, waiting for him to just ignore my question and kiss me senseless – and then he just pulled back and was all like ‘oh ho ho ho ho so you don’t know why I’m getting in your way now that’s just _classic_ Charlie!’

And I didn’t know what to think about it.

I was pouting pretty unhappily, though. 

  
**CcC  
  
**

Alastor still held my face in his hands, lightly tapping the pads of his fingers against my somewhat angrily puffed-up cheeks. It amused him greatly and he chuckled, endeared.

"Now now, what’s that face? Is everything alright, my love?"

 _Instantly,_ my excited heart picked up the pace and my face got hot again. He shouldn’t be allowed to call me that out of the blue, without warning me first!

Also – that _smirk_ he had now – god damn it, was that jerk _pulling my leg_?

"Nothing important," I said, as casually as I could. "Not _really."_

He poked my cheek. "Care to share your thoughts?"

"I thought you were going to share _yours,_ at last," I cleverly countered, releasing his wrists. That’s right: I let go of him! If _that_ wasn’t a sign he should just hurry up and start explaining me what the hell was up with his annoying ‘I’m unredeemable’ –shtick, I didn’t know _what_ was. 

"Now, first of all," Alastor said, also letting go of me in return, "I don’t believe in your cause. You know this, right? This is nothing new to you. I’ve always been quite clear about that."

"Yes, Al, I’m _very much_ aware of your low opinion of my hotel’s ultimate goal," I huffed, crossing my arms. Being reminded of his outburst last week _plus_ his negative outlook on my plan to redeem the sinners of Hell _plus_ him mocking me just now _didn’t_ put me in the sunniest of moods.

Alastor sat back and put one of his long legs over the other one, not bothered by my chagrined expression in the least. He even chuckled.

"Why, please cheer up a bit, darling, because even though I don’t believe in this silly dream of yours, I _do_ admit that this doesn’t mean you won’t succeed."

I stared at him, too distracted by this confession to keep my face stern and straight.

"Wait, so… you _do_ think that Hell’s sinners have the opportunity and choice to better and redeem themselves? To escape Hell and the fate that awaits them, when… when the Angels come down?" 

"That’s putting it too strongly, I believe," he mused. "Let’s just say that I would be a fool if I denied that there might be a small chance – the _smallest_ of chances, mind you – that, with a lot of blood, sweat, toil and tears, you could actually, _possibly,_ save some doomed souls. But only if they _legitimately_ want to be redeemed, of course. And on their _own_ account – not because _you_ force them to. Intrinsic motivation versus extrinsic motivation and all that, yada yada."

He gave me a somewhat berating look.

"I-I _know_ that," I softly said. "And I don’t want to force anybody into… being good. I just think everybody just… needs a little push into the right direction, every now and then…?"

"Could be, could be!" Alastor agreed. "Every sinner’s a special case, after all! Some might need a gentle nudge, some need a swift kick in the rear! Still, in my case – **don’t do that**. You’ll only antagonize me." 

I nodded apologetically. "Duly noted, I promise. I-I won’t tell you to become a better version of yourself."

He grinned. "You never _did,_ dear. Last week, you were about to, though. I had to stop you."

"But… _why?"_ I wanted to know. "You still haven’t told me why you’re so opposed to redeeming yourself. Why do you dislike Heaven so much?"

Alastor raised an eyebrow. "Why do you _praise_ Heaven so much? Have you ever even _been_ there, my dear?"

"I—"

"No, you haven’t. You were born in Hell and you’re therefore in no position to even _think_ about going to Heaven."

Alastor’s smile grew more triumphant and he awaited my response.

I bit my lower lip. "My father… told me what Heaven’s like." 

He hadn’t expected that, I could tell from his slightly twitching grin.

"Ah. Of course! Lucifer. Good golly – I sometimes tend to forget that your dear father is a literal fallen Angel."

"He used to tell me stories about Heaven when I was young," I carried on. "It sounded like a… a truly magical place to be. To _live_ in. It’s _amazing,_ really! They have _everything,_ Al – dad told me!"

"No they don’t."

"What?"

Al stared at me, somewhat dumbfounded. Then, to my huge surprise, I saw a reddish color climbing up from his neck, out of his tight collar. One of the Radio Demon’s hands quickly flew up to his face, as if it tried to hide the flushing spots that were starting to form on his pale, greyish skin. 

"Never you mind, my dear."   
  
I confusedly watched him rub his own face and ignore the booing of his radio audience. Why did he get all worked up? What did he say I wasn’t supposed to hear? What had he—

Oh.

_Oh._

Something began to dawn on me.

Without thinking it over, I pushed myself closer to Alastor, paying his sudden alarmed expression no mind as I reached out and turned his face my way. After that, I just kind of let my hand stay right there.

Al’s face was a lot warmer than I had thought. 

"You keep beating around the bush," I heard myself say, while Alastor was clearly conflicted and maybe even having a minor mental meltdown about what he should do with that unexpected hand. "Just tell me already, Al: why do you refuse to go to Heaven?"

Alastor pried my hand off his almost feverish face – and kept holding it, afterwards.

"If this formula of yours happens to work," he started, grinning from ear to ear but _very_ defensively, "then every single sinner in this hellhole will, eventually, go to Heaven. It’s a bizarre, wacky idea, for sure – but it just might be _possible._ You don’t get to die of old age in Hell, after all. You have the time. So imagine: everybody will ascend to Heaven, just like you want them to do. Everybody goes – except for _you,_ dear Charlie. You’ll stay here. _Alone."_

"I know," I said, and shrugged. "That’s fine by me."

Alastor cocked his head. "Don’t lie to me."

I smiled. "I’m not lying, Al – I’m okay with that! Besides, you’re _wrong,_ I won’t be alone. My parents will be here, as well."

"Ah, yes. Your parents. _Wonderful!_ Tell me again, dear, when was the last time you’ve spoken to them, face-to-face?"

I dismissively shook my head, still smiling. "It’s no use, Al. I’ve got my mind set on this. Did you believe I hadn’t _thought_ of that possible outcome? Not to be disrespectful, but when I started thinking about a way to save my people from the annual Purge, you weren’t even _born_ yet. I _know_ what I’m doing. Besides, it’s not about me."

"Well of _course_ it’s not about you – why _would_ it be about you, really?" Alastor grabbed my shoulders and pulled me towards him persistently. Our faces almost crashed into one another, but he didn’t seem to care. 

"You’re goodhearted, you’re generous to a _fault,_ you're funny and you're smart. You’re the sweetest, loveliest being that wanders these cursed, bloodied grounds – _all_ of you, Charlie, _including_ the demonic bits you don’t like about yourself. All of you is _so much more beautiful_ , so much more _deserving_ of Heaven than any of us loathsome sinners are."

"A-Al…" I stammered, gasping in surprise when he held me close and pushed his forehead against mine. I was almost sitting on his lap, even. "Y-you should watch out – you’ll start bleeding again if you—"

"It’s a good thing I’m one of the worst sinners Hell has to offer, yes indeed!" Alastor steamrolled right through my remark, snickering menacingly. "Because as long as _you_ are _here,_ Charlie, I’m not going _anywhere!"_

I apparently had passed the point of simply tearing up in the meantime, since I suddenly felt something wet dripping off my cheeks, and my vision had become blurry.

"Y-you’ll get bored here."

"Nonsense! Look around you, my dear – books _everywhere!"_

"You’ll eventually finish reading all of them."

"Then I’ll write new ones myself!"

"You’ll… run out of paper?"

"Then I’ll just continue on one of those fancy computer things – honestly, Charlie, I can go on forever!"

I hiccupped and snorted out snotty laugher. I grabbed the front of his neat shirt and threw my head into it, nuzzling my face against his chest and squeezing my eyes shut. He let me stay put like that for a little while, winding his arms around me and hugging me tightly – albeit somewhat awkwardly.

I had wanted to stay like that longer – _way_ longer. It felt nice. It felt great. It even felt _safe,_ being pressed against Alastor like this. It felt like a promise.

Some time passed, but then Al pushed me back a bit. I could tell he wanted me to look at him, but I didn’t want to. However, I didn’t try to stop Alastor as he hooked his fingers underneath my chin again and smoothly lifted it up, all in one movement. 

I… I didn’t think I had ever seen him look at me like that. I couldn’t even think of a word to describe it. 

"You can’t win this, my love. Just give in already."

"If I give in…" I gulped and looked at him expectantly, "…will _you_ give in?"

"Well that depends on what you mean with—"

I cupped his face, straightened my back and kissed him full on the mouth, instantaneously shutting him up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read '1984' last year, but I almost couldn't finish it. I had to put it aside a lot of times to go and read something happier, because my good god, what a complicated, depressing, suffocating book that was! The story's about Winston, a man who lives in this dystopian world, ruled over by the mysterious leader called Big Brother. He works at the Ministry of Truth and although he seemingly does all the things he should be doing, he's secretly thinking about standing up to the system.  
> This book's ending sent a chill down my spine. Really, truly mind-boggling. It was banned and challenged a lot for its social and political themes, according to the internet. Also, sexual contents.  
> By the way: do you want to read a more modern adaptation of this book's theme, one that reads a bit easier but still has the same spine-chilling effect to your mind and soul? Read 'The Circle' by Dave Eggers. Seriously. Do it. It's amazing.


	18. Candide (Voltaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Alastor share their first kiss. Alastor has a plan in store. Also, page 171.

His frustrating smile was effectively smothered off his face as he moved his lips against mine – somewhat clumsily at first, but with such great vigor, hunger and eagerness it didn’t take him long to completely overpower me and smack me against the seat of the chaise longue. 

Air was practically whacked out of me as I harshly landed on my back, before Alastor plunged right back on top of me. He resolutely _slammed_ our mouths together again, deepening our kisses, reducing me to a quivering, gasping mess that couldn’t help but want more of it – just more of it, of all of it. My hands got roughly pinned next to my face, all tangled up with his own fingers – but I couldn’t care less and I wasted no time wrapping my legs around his barely-existing hips. I tugged them against mine with a firm jolt, holding on to him with everything I had – everything I could.

It went on like this for a little while… I-I don’t really remember all of it. Just that I seemed to be in a constant state of delighted bliss during the whole event, and that Alastor _just. Wouldn’t. Stop. Kissing me._

Until even _his_ insane level of strength and stamina ran out, at last, and he kind of collapsed on top of me. His hands were still intimately woven with mine, though, and I chuckled and wheezed tiredly when I felt him pressing kisses in my neck. It actually felt soft. I could cry from the sheer revelation.

"H-hey, Al?" I eventually started, my voice hoarse.

He made some sort of muffled noise, one of which I decided that it was a questioning sound, telling me to carry on.

I smiled gingerly and gave a squeeze to his hands.

"I love you."

Alastor’s body solidified _right_ on the spot – I could tell. After all, I was _right underneath him_ as I felt his limbs grow rigid, as if my hesitant confession had brought up a nuclear reaction inside of him that he didn’t know how to handle. 

I just laid there, blinking a bit and thought about whether or not I should keep on talking – but then he almost gave me _stroke_ by abruptly clamping his arms around me, taking an almost painful hold of my waist and shoulder as he pressed himself against me _so unbelievably hard_ I was actually starting to black out.

"Al – can’t breath – let _go,"_ I choked, rapidly patting his stiff figure.

He did, luckily, and when he did, I heard him do something else.

As I tried to catch my breath (yet again), I listened to him. It wasn’t easy, since I noticed Alastor was doing the absolute best he could to stifle himself, to hide this reaction away, but it was no use: I could still hear it. I could also feel it, when drops of warm water started to trickle into my neck and inside of my shirt.

"Al… hey, are you… are you actually…?"

No response. 

The warm dripping kept on going, though.

I uttered a resigned sigh and was able to reach out for him, putting my hand on the back of his head to caress his hair. Fur. Fluff. Whatever was growing on his head, really.

Al didn’t _like_ to like it, for whatever stupid reason, and stubbornly tried to shake my hand off of him without letting go of me, but that only made my resolve to try and comfort him more definite. I let out a grumpy puff of air and just enclosed _both_ of my arms around his head, cuddling it both aggressively as well as devotedly.

"It’s okay, Al," I groaned, since he just kept on fighting my attempts to put him at ease. "I’m here and it’s _okay."_

And for a split second, it seemed like he was going to give in. I could swear I felt him relax his muscles just a _tiny bit_ – 

…when the door of the library _brutally_ flew open and Niffty, plus a big mop and bucket, came shuffling in. She wore a bright, neon yellow headset that was way too big for her little one-eyed head and she was obviously bouncing her head to the rhythm of whatever beat she was listening to.

  
**CcC  
  
**

I wasn’t even beginning to panic yet when Alastor suddenly _yanked_ himself off me, slipping through my fingers. I was about to ask him if he was alright, when Niffty finally noticed our presence and stopped shaking her hips to stare at us. Confused, and a bit testy, she put down her headset.

"Hi there! You’re still here? The both of you? Still here? But your break time is over, right? I know because you always hide away in the library from twelve to one. I timed it. I clean the library at two, you see? So you two shouldn’t be here anymore. No. I need to clean. So please leave, okay? Thank you!"

"Well alright then, Niffty darling, calm down," Alastor said, laughing affably, "no need to nag at us! Charlie and I were about to leave anyway. Weren’t we, my dear?"

I looked at him. Not a _single_ trace of any tears was left on his already grinning face. His expression didn’t give away the tiniest glimpse of the shameless humanity I had seen up close just a few minutes ago. The only thing that could give away something had happened at all, were his bruised lips and his messy hairdo, although he was already combing through it with his sharp fingers, ready to erase that bit of imperfection as well.

"Sure…" I said. "We were leaving, yes. That’s what we were doing."

"See?" Alastor smiled widely, getting up from the chaise longue – and pulling me up with him.

Niffty opened her mouth, ready to say something, but then changed her mind. She squeezed her one eye almost shut as she observed us closely. Both Al and me stiffened just a bit at that. 

"Oh _geez,"_ she then sighed, shaking her head. "Oh man, this _sucks!"_

Alastor gave her a weird look. "Anything wrong, dear?"

"Yea, I shipped you with Angel," she huffed, putting her headset back on. "Not that you two _aren’t_ cute together – I do think so, I do! – but now all of my steamy deer-on-spider-fanfics are ruined. Thanks a _lot!"_

"You shipped what-now?" Al turned to look at me. I was getting redder by the second, of course, and couldn’t see him eye to eye. Which only worried Alastor _more._

"What? What did she say? Is she planning to ship _actual_ Angel Dust or just that perverted fellow that dwells around this place? Why, I didn’t even know there were docks in Hell!"

"What do _docks_ have to do with… wait, no – look, just give it a rest, Al," I told him urgently.

"Also, you two _really_ ought to go freshen up," Niffty continued, looking up from her phone. "Snogging in the library is all fun and games, but you both look like you were going at it for _hours._ It shows, okay? Okay. Just fix your hair and clothes a bit. Then nobody will notice that sizzling chemistry you got going on there. Not more than usual, that is. Now go. Go! Byyyyyye!"

And Niffty practically kicked us out of my very own library, leaving me and Alastor in the hallway as she shut the big door with a sound _thud._

  
**CcC  
  
**

For a minute, we just… stood there, nailed to the ground. There were noises coming from the lower floors and Niffty had apparently started singing to the music now, too, but in the hallway itself, things were still relatively quiet.

"Well!" Al then said, moving on his heels back and forth. "I can’t believe it’s already so very late. Such a shame – I had multiple _very_ important activities planned I wanted to do today!"

"You had?" I asked.

He nodded. "I needed to share some information with you, remember? I wrote it on that note. It was an idea I had... Ah, oh well. Have no fear, dear Charlie: I’ll simply have to postpone it. In fact, maybe it’s even better if I start tomorrow… Yes! Yes, I’m sure of it! Such a wonderful turn of events! Ha ha! No worries though, Charlie: I’ll report the results back to you later."

I frowned at him. "So, you’re... just not going to tell me what this idea of yours is anymore."

Alastor gave me a soft, tender smile – before suddenly bending forwards to me, making me jump a bit. 

"Oh _my. Curious,_ aren’t we?"

"I - I am," I said.

"Good! That’s good. I like that look on you! It gives your dark eyes such a beautiful, radiant shine."

I felt my jaw drop. Alastor was flirting with me. He was actually _flirting_ with me.

And _successfully,_ too, since my face started getting red again and I could only stammer things that weren’t even closely related to words.

"Well then," he chuckled, standing upright again. "I believe we should parts ways, for now. After all, there are still tons of things you still have to do, as this hotel’s rightful owner and manager. And I need to do some preparations, too! Good heavens, _such_ busy bees we are! I’ll talk to you later, alright?"

He patted my head, like I was a cute little dog, and started strolling off.

To be fair, I firstly wanted to just let him walk away. I kind of understood him. Yeah. I did. 

Maybe this was better. You know? Maybe this was okay, for now.

But before I could stop myself, I found myself suddenly sprinting towards Al’s retreating figure, grabbing hold of the backside of his coat.

"W-wait."

Alastor stopped, glancing over his shoulder. "Yes, dear?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I looked up at him, and then I pressed my face against his back, grasping the fabric of his coat.

"No – it’s nothing, really. I’m… kind of tired, probably."

Instead of trying to shake me off of him, he let me hold him, for a little while. Then he turned around and straightforwardly squished my face against the front of his dress shirt.

"Now now, Charlie. Are you _sure_ you’re fine?"

"Yeah – sure!" I rubbed my face gruffly against his chest. "I’m okay! Just impatient, I guess."

"That’s perfectly understandable." Alastor ran his hands through my hair, almost with a childish wonder. "My, but you have the _silkiest_ hair!"

"Thank you."

"Page 171."

"…what?"

"What? Anyway, Charlie – do you know only _two_ people have ever told me what _you_ told me in the library, my dear?"

I pressed my lips together tightly and suppressed a groan. I hoped that sounded like a ‘no’. 

Alastor kept on petting my hair – a little uneasy, but he was doing it. "I’m not used to being told what you told me. Neither am I used to telling others those words in return. I need to – process this. Process this in a way so that I can give you the answer you deserve to get, in a way that’s most befitting for a charming creature like you. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes. Well, uhm, I… think so?"

"Page 171."

I finally looked up to give him a puzzled look. "What _page_ – what are you talking about?"

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. There was, however, a _huge_ level of uncertainly hidden beneath his empty laughter. 

"Ha ha! Well, anyway! Have you started reading _Pride and Prejudice_ yet?"

I blinked and for a moment, I was certain Al was actually losing it. Telling him I loved him had broken something very important in his brain and now all he could do was ramble randomly about books and page numbers. Oh no!

Then something started to click. In an instant, even.

"Okay," I said. "I… think get it."

He seemed very relieved and let my hair fall from his claw-shaped hands with a sigh. Some of it kept dangling behind his fingers, so he had to actually pluck it off bit by bit himself.

"You do?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Yes. I’ll wait. And I’ll read. From the beginning."

Alastor was a bit taken aback by that soft, but determined statement. "It seemed to me that you needed to know my answer to your confession as fast as possible. If you want to know it _that_ acutely, you can simply skip everything and look it up. You _know_ that, right?"

"Yes – but no." I made a face and shook my head. "I’ll start reading _Pride and Prejudice_ tomorrow, during break time. And _only_ during break time."

He nodded, listening carefully. 

"I’m a slow reader – you know I am. I’ll take the time you need me to take. However, I _will_ reach page 171, eventually. And when I’ve gotten to that page, I expect you to have come to terms with your feelings – and… a-and I also expect a response."

Al nodded again.

"Sounds fair?" I asked him. 

"Fair enough," he grinned. "I can work with that."

"Also…"

"Yes?"

I momentarily looked away from him and tried as hard as I could to hide my furious blushing – but when I figured it wouldn’t go away, I reluctantly looked him in the eyes again, twirling a lock of hair around my fingers.

"I… I really enjoyed what happened in the library. I wouldn’t mind if that… happened more often…?"

"Oh it will," Al said, _right_ away. His radio crowd spontaneously broke into an overwhelmingly _ecstatic_ cheering, applauding _loudly,_ some invisible folks even shouting _"oooooooooh!"_

Getting bit too embarrassed at the unconscious reply his own public made, Alastor smacked his hands in front of his rapidly reddening face and faltering smile. He muffled a hasty goodbye, before snapping his fingers – and disappearing in a flurry of black clouds.   
  
I smiled giddily, rubbing my cheeks. All things considered, I felt a lot better now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to read 'Candide' for school... but I didn't. Don't tell my teacher I just winged my way through the whole exam…
> 
> According to my sources, 'Candide' is about an easy-going, simple fellow that is brutally kicked out of his home after he makes out with the beautiful Cunégone, the daughter of the Baron. Candide is the Baron's bastard nephew, so you can understand why they chased him out. What follows is a series of unfortunate events: Candide goes on many adventures and meets people who have suffered the greatest hardships one can possible imagine - and he undergoes a lot of them, too. It doesn't break his insane optimism, though, and in the end, he earns his happy ending.  
> 'Candide' was denounced immediately after it got published, because the book 'openly derides government and church alike'. Well, it WAS published for the first time in 1759, so what did you expect, really?


	19. Lord of the Flies (William Golding)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel Dust and the other sinners of the Happy Hotel are forced to read books. Angel Dust is disgusted, yet intrigued.

There was a pile of paper lying just outside of my fucking bedroom and I honestly felt so attacked right now.

A pile.

Of paper.

For _me._

Uuuuggggggh…

Yea it was for me, _specifically_ for me even, since there was a fucking _note_ on top of it that said "To the depraved sex fiend" and let’s be real here, of all the kinky sexual deviants here, none other than yours truly had to the one and only alpha bitch of the gang.

So I somehow felt both flattered and insulted at the same time and took the note on top of the big binder, reading it. 

Looks like this was Alastor’s doing here…

  
_Dear –insert name here–,_

_Congratulations, trash! You have just been given a task to do for the upcoming three days. Now you finally make yourself useful around the hotel. Good for you, honestly!_

_Now, the task I have bestowed on you is: **read the first fifty pages of the printed book I got you.** That is all. Just the first fifty pages. It’s from a book from Charlie’s library._

_After you’ve read these pages, nothing happens and you’re free to live your worthless, puny life just the way you did before! Lucky you!_

_Do enjoy yourself!  
  
_

_\- Alastor  
  
_

_P.S., I’ll be visiting you on the third day to quiz you about the book and I will_ **snap off your fingers and obliterate you straight into the darkest depths of the void if you didn’t read all fifty pages.**

 _P.P.S., And it’s no use to try and use the internets._ **I’m watching you, Angel Dust.**

  
That… that _nasty…_ that _evil…_

_RAAAAH!_

I shook over my entire body as I aggressively crumpled up the note to a satisfying little ball of _bullshit,_ then kicked it into the dark hallway, away from me. Boy, that _asshole_ – that _Alastor!_ Ohh, he was lucky he was a fucking madman just waiting for the lamest reason to off me for good here, ‘cause I sure as fuck wouldn’t as much as _look_ at this… this _book_ otherwise!

And he’d _enjoy_ every fucking second of obliterating me, too, that _fuckface._

And now that I took a good look around me, I actually could see some very scary voodoo-symbols floating around the corner – _my_ corner – _oh my god that crazy son of a bitch was still lurking around here WHAT THE FLYING FUCK!_

I – I had no other choice, I just… I had to…

_**Read!** _

Choking up from the unfairness of it all, I tearfully picked up the heavy binder, dragging myself back into my bedroom with it. There, I slammed it on my bed, squashing the face of the guy I had unsuccessfully tried to entertain myself with the night before. He let out a strangled yelp.

"Ey – what the _hell,_ man, I was—"

"Yeah yeah, don’t even care how you were planning to finish that sentence. Listen, what’s-your-face, you’re gonna get five minutes to get your ass dressed and out of here, you hear?" I interrupted him right away, as I sat down on the messy bedsheets and placed the book on my lap. "You’ve outstayed your welcome. Now piss off."

Fucker wasn’t a good lay anyway. 

There was some rustling behind me as I checked out the front page of the book I was supposed to read. _Kiss of the Spider Woman_ , the title read – and below it, there was a woman’s face visible, smiling mysteriously. She was partly covered with black cobwebs.

Cheeky bitch, eh?

I snickered, but sighed right after: that cover probably was the sole image in the whole damn thing. Hell, I wasn’t even going to check it – knowing Alastor, it probably was.

Meanwhile, the demon I had spent the night with came hopping into my field of vision, struggling with some pants. He gave me some mighty angry looks, but I just watched him boorishly. 

"Ya done yet?"

"I’m busy getting _dressed,_ yeah? Gimme a minute!"

"Fine. I gave you five, there’s still one minute left of it. Go nuts." 

I started flipping through the first couple of pages. There, I noticed the summary, on the second or third page. I read it. Apparently, it was about some dudes that are in jail. One of them is a communist revolutionary named Valentin and the other guy’s named Molina, a… gay window dresser, imprisoned because he ‘corrupted a minor’.

Well that’s _nice._

What was Alastor trying to tell me here – that I was a _pedo_ or something? God dammit!

Still, the fact that one of the main characters was a gay window dresser piqued my interests, somewhat. Also, a hunky, revolutionary man was locked up with him. I had done some _goooooooood_ adult movies that had these kinds of scenario’s going on – never would’ve thought there were actual books around with these kind of themes…

I got distracted because my stupid bedpartner managed to knock over the lamp on the bed stand – and I groaned loudly, rolling my eyes at him.

"Dude, _seriously_ – you need to _go._ Now. I got some work to do and so do you, probably."

"Yeah, I’m _goin’_ already!" he said, grabbing for the doorknob. "You nagging bitch – think you’re all that, huh? _Fuck_ you! And – OW!"

He finally shut up when he tumbled over something, just outside the door.

I just kept on flipping through the binder. What the hell, there was only _dialogue_ in this story! No descriptions, no details…

Nice. To-the-point-literature. Eh. Who knows – I might even _like_ it. Besides, it wasn’t like I got much of a choice here, right? It was either read or getting maimed by that red radio monstrosity. Might as well give this shit a try.

"Angel?" I heard my increasingly getting more and more annoying ex-lover yell just out of my room.

"Yeah, what?"

"There’s some binder here… the note says it’s for ‘the unremarkable dimwit that slept with the deprived sex fiend’…"

"That’s means it’s for you, stud."

A short silence. He was probably reading the note. I tried to focus on the book again.

"Angel?" his irritating voice distracted me again.

"Oh for fuck’s sake – _what!"_

"It says the Radio Demon with come slaughter me in my sleep and cut me into tiny little pieces of trash if I’ve got the guts to not-read the book…"

You could tell Alastor had a great time writing these notes.

I put the binder under my upmost right arm, got up from my bed and walked out the door. I eyed the demon sitting and shivering in front of his put-together pile of paper disapprovingly. 

"You’re still here? Man, you _gotta_ fuck off already! I—"

_"Angel!"_

_"WHAT, DAMMIT!"_

"The Radio Demon _KNOWS MY NAME!_ "

"Cool." I locked my door and shrugged. "At least _somebody_ does."

And after that massive burn, I _seductively_ walked away from the sucker, now sobbing in front of the binder. Because hey, maybe I was a huge, walking piece of shit to insult and leave the guy behind in the dust like that, but I at least was _a damn good-looking_ one!

  
**DdD**   
  


Man, I was starving. 

And I had to read.

This fucking thing had 288 pages!

…oh wait, I only had to read fifty of ‘em.

In THREE FUCKING DAYS!

Bemoaning my horrible ordeal, I slowly made my way downstairs. I did feel a bit less shitty when I saw that _every single bedroom door_ that I passed and that held a guest inside, had a paper binder lying in front of it, all with a little Radio Demon-note on top of it, like a cherry on top of a pie. A very _lousy_ shit pie, but still.

I got to the main entrance hall. There, even _more_ sinners were wandering around, all having these very nervous looks on their faces and all with a big, paper binder in their hands. They all were looking for a place to sit down and read, I guess. Some already were busy burying their noses into it.

Charlie’s hotel had at least fifty patrons already. They all seemed to have gotten a binder overnight, with a cute, personal, little death threat and everything.

Whoa. The strawberry pimp hadn’t been just mooching around the past few days, had he? Damn, didn’t he need to _sleep_ every now and then? I know I did!

Somehow, I had found my way to the kitchen. Well, kitchen – the place our food was always prepared and where we could come and get it. Then Vaggie would stomp us out of the room again because ‘only the hotel staff was allowed to eat their food in the kitchen’ and the rest of us sinners could just _suck it._

That means Vaggie, Charlie, Niffty and Husk were using the kitchen as a place to eat, because Alastor never bothered to eat anything here in the hotel. I didn’t really wanted to think about what Alastor _did_ eat when he wasn’t here. I presumed it wasn’t anything people were supposed to eat. 

_Ughhhhh…_

Still getting goosebumps all over my body because of my own gross imagination (and lemme tell you, my imagination was _very_ gross), I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the white, plastic, round table. Real classy Ikea-shit right there. You’d think the Princess of Hell would have some better furniture for her dear clients, but nope – this piece of shit would have to do. 

Eh, well. Maybe I shouldn’t be a little bitch about it.

Only after I had taken I seat, I noticed I wasn’t alone here: Vaggie was here as well, and she, too, had a book with her. I glanced at her book and – holy smokes, she was already _halfway?!_

"Are you a fucking _speedrunner?"_ I greeted her, smacking my own binder down on the table. "You’re _killing_ that book! It’s not even funny!"

Vaggie passive-aggressively looked up from her binder and leered at me.

"Good morning to you _too,_ Angel, you rude _dipshit."_

"Yeah, um, sorry. Hi, I guess." I awkwardly said, waving a hand at her. "But seriously, you took that book and really made short work of it, right? _Damn_ girl!"

"I like reading," the moth demon simply said. "I read a lot when I was alive."

"You did, huh." I got back up and looked around me. "Hey, mind if I grab some grub? I’m hungry as fuck."

"Go on ahead. Niffty and Husk aren’t here yet, anyway. Neither is Charlie." Vaggie flipped another page, a bit more fiercely this time.

Yeeeeeeshh, there was _so much_ said and unsaid with that monotonously spoken statement of hers…  
  
I _carefully_ took a bowl and some cereal, _gently_ poured the milk into the bowl and _softly_ took out a spoon from one of the many drawers. All at once, of course – the wonder of having two sets of arms… if I didn’t need any more, that is.

Feeling assertive, I moved one chair closer to Vaggie and stared at her up close, while gobbling up my cereal.

She sighed, finally getting completely out of her binder. She even shut it, meaning I had her full attention now. Hooray! 

_"What,_ Angel," she nagged. "Eat _normally,_ dammit – you’re dripping all over the table!"

"Soooooooo you’re missing Charlie yet?"

She spread her one eye wide open, _scandalized._ "My _god,_ Angel, you are about as subtle as a brick to the fucking _face,_ you know that?"

"I know that," I proudly said.

"Yeah, I kind of miss Charlie."

"Oh – you still wanna talk about it?"

"Yes." She glared even harder at me. "Yes, Angel, I want to talk about it. Because - I don’t know what to think or do anymore. I – I don’t _get_ her anymore."

I nodded, secretly relishing in her agony. Ohhhh boy oh boy oh boy, here we go!

"I used to get her," Vaggie said, resting her arms on top of the binder and her chin on top of her arms. "We were good friends before we started dating, you see – our relation had a good basis, before it bloomed into something even better. We were crazy about each other. Charlie had this… this _grand_ plan to better Hell and to save all of the sinners from the Purge, and I adored how _passionate_ she was about it. I loved her, so of course I supported her – of course I vowed to help her out as much as I could. So she got the hotel, and even though things looked pretty bad for a while, they eventually got better after you decided to stay here, just like… hmr."

"…Alastor?"

"Yeah." Vaggie sneered. "I can’t even be mad at him anymore – he’s a creepy asshole and I still don’t trust him, but up till this point, he has done more _good_ than _bad_ things for Charlie and the hotel, all things considered. Even this… weird, reading assignment-crap he’s put up for all of us – it’s probably his way of helping Charlie, I think. And speaking about Charlie…"

"…she really got the hots for him, right?" I giggled a bit. This was fun! 

Vaggie shot me yet another nasty look. "Look, are you just going to make fun of me? Because in that case, you should just get your dirty ass out of here and leave me be! Go read or something!"

"But I’m right, ain’t I?" I grinned and puffed my already puffy chest some more. "I was sceptical at first, because we all know Al never cared about anything or anybody. But then Husk said Al and Charlie were kinda hitting it off – and then I saw it, too. The _chemistry._ The silent _pining._ The _love letters_.’

" _Love letters_?" Vaggie repeated sarcastically. 

I went back upon my word a bit. "Well, maybe not exactly a love letter, but… okay, never mind that. Thing is, I saw Charlie with Alastor after I went and looked for her yesterday. She was late, so I was like, scavenging the hallways, where the hell is that broad, yadayada, and _presto_ – there she was, talking to the Radio Demon."

"So you saw them talk. So what?" she shrugged.

"Well, hate to bring it down to you, but it was a very friendly conversation."

"What do you—"

"A VERY friendly conversation, _if ya catch my drift._ "

Vaggie seemed horrified. "You didn’t… _walk in on them_ or anything like that, did you?"

"No no – yuck, my god, who would want to see _that,"_ I laughed, shaking my hands in denial. "Like putting a red killer clown on top of a turtledove. They _were_ hugging, though! There was some pretty intense holdin’ and huggin’ going on. And it seemed like _Charlie_ was the one who initiated it. No forceful stuff. Only, um… consented cuddling."

Vaggie heaved a big sigh, closing her good eye for a second.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

The greyish girl opened her eye again. "You know, Angel – I think it’s a good thing we split up. Sure, I didn’t see it coming and I wished I could have prevented it, somehow, but… Charlie was right. We weren’t… like _that_ anymore. We barely hugged. We barely touched each other at _all._ Not because we didn’t want to, per se, but… well, we didn’t… _feel_ like doing that anymore? Something like that?"

I nodded understandingly, eating the rest of my breakfast.

Vaggie squeezed her arm, searching for the right words to say. 

"I was already beginning to fear something when I saw the two of them interacting together for the first time. I was getting afraid I would lose her to Alastor. She likes people who make her laugh, who have the same hobbies as she does, who are fickle and keep her on the tips of her toes – it _entices_ her. By getting all defensive and dismissive of Alastor, I alienated Charlie, who really liked him, even _more._ I basically shoved her _right_ into his arms, away from me. It was the last straw. I think we’d have broken up eventually anyways, but without Alastor’s meddling, we’d probably have lasted… a bit longer."

I frowned, gulping down the last bits and pieces of cereal. 

"They’re not gonna last long either, if you ask me."

"Why do you think that?"

"Al’s _ace,"_ I matter-of-factly said. "Charlie’s not. You _really_ think things will work out if one’s sexually attracted to the other, but the other doesn’t want to _tap that ass_?" 

But Vaggie shook her head, smiling at me like she was pitying me. What – _she_ lost her girl but _I_ got the sympathy-stare? What gives!

"Angel, you know nothing about asexuality at _all,_ do you?"

"Whuh?" I eloquently said.

"Asexuals can have sex just _fine,_ no problem. It most of the time just means they’re not sexually attracted to any gender. Therefore, they don’t necessarily need to have sex in their lives. They can live without it – but then again, it’s different with every other ace person. Maybe Alastor’s the kind of ace that truly _disgusts_ sex, sure, it’s possible… or he’ll _gladly_ do it. With her. _For_ her." 

"Sounds complicated," I said.

Vaggie shrugged. "I guess it’s a little complicated."

"I hate complicated shit." I slid the now empty bowl away from me – and grabbed the binder with my story, instead. "At least being gay isn’t _that_ fucking complex, am I right?"

She smiled at that and also turned her attention back to her book. "You said it, fellow lesbian."

"There ya go," I grinned. "You still have some spunk! You’ll be _fine,_ Vag."

A couple of quiet (or at least relatively quiet) seconds passed, in which we tried to get reading already.

"…hey, Angel?" Vaggie then softly said.

"Yea?" I looked up from the first sentence, putting a finger on the page.

She frowned, as if she was embarrassed to finish what she was about to say. "Thanks. For… you know. Letting me vent and stuff."

"Aww." I chuckled. "Anytime, toots!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read 'Lord of the Flies' a few years ago. A friend and I had to read it for a school assignment: we had to read a book that was originally written for kids, but ultimately turned out to be more suitable for adults. Well, Golding's book certainly was just that.  
> The story's about a few boys that get stranded on a lonely Island during some kind of war, after their plane crashes. The adults are dead and the kids decide to try and create their very own civilization. All is well in the beginning, but it isn't before long the boys start to lose their humanity - and some even their very own lives.  
> The book wasn't exactly banned, but it was challenged for being racist, harmful to minors and blasphemy - even in the year 2000!


	20. The Catcher in the Rye (J. D. Salinger)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor struggles with the fact he's fallen in love with Charlie. He doesn't mind bombarding her with kisses on a regular basis, though.

After my and Charlie’s daring _rendezvous_ in her lovely library that almost literary as well as figuratively meant the end of me, I became conscious of a couple of pressing matters I needed to do, arrange or otherwise execute… 

One: I needed to work through the night to get the whole ‘Let’s Force Them Loathsome Sinners To Read Now Shall We’-plan going. It was going to be a chore, oh my, it certainly was – but it was _doable._ I hadn’t been stalking all of the hotel’s patrons obsessively the past couple of weeks to get my mind off Charlie for _nothing._

This meant that I wasn’t able to do… less admirable things that evening – what a shame, especially with that wonderful full hell-moon we had tonight! – but I guess there’s just no other way. I wanted to help Charlie, after all, and I believe I helped her with my plan, so there you have it.

Two: I needed to figure out why I lied about needing to ‘process’ Charlie’s confession. There was nothing to process. I had admitted it to myself already: I was mad about the girl. I _cherished_ her. For Pete’s sake, I was already foolishly enamored with her when I wrote her the note – why else would I put that blasted page 171 on there? I was already ready to tell her then – why still leave her hanging _now?_

Well. I _did_ like the way Charlie handled it. Making me promise her to tell her about how I felt about her after she had finally reached page 171 in the book – it had a tangy, exciting ring to it. Almost as if this was some kind of hunting game – but instead of me hunting her, like I had always hunted people down, _she_ was doing the hunting now. It made my heart flutter in almost horrid anticipation. 

I was going to lose that game, after all. 

_Gladly_ so, even. 

However, I didn’t know what to feel about that knowledge. What did it _mean?_

I’d give it some thought later. 

Then, third – the last but not least pressing matter that demanded my attention: kissing Charlie.

Ha! Well.

I could make an entire flowery piece of poetry about it, but the facts were clear as day: I liked kissing Charlie. I was certain drinking a nice cup of my favorite, hot drink and it instantly warming me up entirely from the inside had the same wholesome effect on me – but then with the additional need to hold that cup close to me and enjoy it and love it and worship it for the longest time. 

…ahem.

Anyway, Charlie liked kissing me, too. She had actually asked me if I could kiss her more often, that bold little darling. I had foreshadowed I would. 

I am a classy man of structure, though. And although the thought of simply smooching Charlie at every opportunity sweet Lady Fortuna would give me was a very entertaining one indeed, I wasn’t planning to do something so undignified whenever I caught a mere glimpse of my charming princess.

Ho ho, the _idea!_

No – it’d do that three times per day, at most. 

Once in the morning, once around noon and once in the evening. 

That sounded like the most gentlemanly thing to do, no? Yes it does. Three times a day it is!

Starting the very next day!

  
**AaA  
  
**

Since sleep is for the weak and feeble-minded anyway, I simply did not sleep that night and instead prepared the many books/binders/stories I had put together over the last couple of days.

Thanks to my all of my lurking and observing, I believed I had gotten a good impression of which stories would be befitting for every single lowly hotel guest. I hadn’t read all of these works, sadly enough – after all, many books were also published _after_ my death – but I still thought my keen eye for good literature would help me out, even for the books I hadn’t read yet.

To my surprise, it had been a slow, but not necessarily tedious task. I _liked_ searching for a book that would suit someone like, say, Husker: a story about booze, a story about regrets in life, a story about gambling, a story about self-loathing… the possibilities were endless, really! I even enjoyed myself while doing it! 

Afterwards, when I had finally decided on the books and had printed them (not an easy job mind you, but I eventually succeeded), I also wrote all the sinners a fun little motivational note. A highlight of the night, for sure! I could already picture Angel Dust’s face, all twisted up in beautiful desperation as that nitwit read the death threat in front of his bedroom door! Ha ha ha!

And you bet your life I was going to **murder them all** if they had the gall to refuse my challenge.

They wouldn’t, though. They _knew_ me.

I spent what remained of the night on putting down the binders and notes in front of their respectable, unsuspecting loaners’ doors. Roughly fifty works of paper were readied that way, and by the time I had laid down the last binder, another day of work was about to begin. Which meant that Charlie would leave her room any moment now.

I stretched myself and cracked my aching back – bending over and standing back up again for hours wasn’t exactly a very pleasant thing to do, let’s be honest here – before swiftly making my way to Charlie’s bedroom. There wasn’t anything special about her bedroom, actually. It was just like a regular hotel guest’s room. I happened to notice seeing her entering it one day, that’s the sole reason why I knew what and where her room was.

In front of Charlie’s bedroom door – the single taken bedroom door that hadn’t have a binder at the ready – I raised a hand and knocked on the wood with my knuckles. 

After some stumbling behind the door, it was opened – and there she was again.

Charlie. My darling Charlie, in all of her barely-awake glory. Her old nightgown was baggy and slid a bit off her pale shoulder, her hair was unruly and stuck out of her head into every possible direction and there was a toothbrush partly hanging outside of her yawning mouth.

I inhaled sharply. Somebody should’ve _warned_ me what effect this beautiful being would have on me so early in the morning!

"Yeshhh…?" Charlie initially started – but her sleepy eyes widened almost right away when she recognised me.

"…o-oh godsh, Awl, I’m sowwy, I—"

I didn’t let her finish – I pulled out her toothbrush, swept her hair out of her face and then simply leaned in. Our lips connected and I allowed myself to deepen the kiss after a few seconds, tasting mint and everything that was Charlie.

However, Charlie didn’t kiss back and when I finally pulled back to see if everything was alright, I saw her perplexed expression and the now-empty tube of toothpaste in her right hand, its contents now all over her clenched fist and the floor. Her face was as red as a beet root and it took her some time to get back to her senses again.

I chuckled when she eventually started blinking again and I neatly inserted her toothbrush back into her mouth again. There!

"Good morning, Charlie dear!"

"Y-yeah," Charlie stammered as she took out the toothbrush again, repeatedly stroking her hair out of her baffled eyes. "G-good morning to you, too, Al. Wow. I mean… I-I just got out of bed, really." 

I smiled, endeared by her flustered face. "That’s alright, my love. You look lovely!"

Charlie blushed even _more_ furiously at that and hastily covered up her bare shoulder. I wanted to tell her that _that_ wasn’t what I meant by her looking lovely, but oh well.

"Is… is there something the matter?" she asked. "You’re up awfully early… has something happened?"

"None at all!" I said. "I just wanted to kiss you good morning."

Charlie wordlessly looked up at me for a little while, before smiling ever so slightly. 

_"…that’s_ why you’re here? To kiss me good morning?"

"Yes!" 

"That’s nice. I-I like that! Good morning kisses, I mean. I… yeah. I really like those." Charlie beamed a wonderful, somewhat shy smile at me, fidgeting with her hair. 

She looked positively _mesmerizing,_ wiggling around in her ugly nightgown like that, and I had to firmly remind myself that I was a gentleman – a _gentleman,_ Alastor, and a very convincing one, too! – because otherwise, I’d have probably done something out of my own control… and I wasn’t even sure _what_ that something was, but it had something to do with me, and Charlie, and the nearest wall I could slam her against.

Good gracious.

I wanted to slam Charlie against _walls._

Just like the fact I had to acknowledge she made me want to lose control, this bizarre thought caught me off guard.

"Well would you _look_ at the time!" I therefore awkwardly pointed to an invisible thing behind me. "Unfortunately, I should take my leave again!"

Charlie blinked. "What?"

"Ha ha ha! Well! I’ll see you during break time, my dear!"

I didn’t waste a second: I turned on my heels and rapidly made my leave, leaving behind a very confused Charlie in the door opening of her bedroom.

  
**AaA**   
  


The rest of the morning, I was _very_ productive: after breakfast, I hounded as many not-reading soul in the hotel as I was able to, urgently reminding them that they needed to have read at least fifty pages before the third day would end, because otherwise, I would end **_them._**

It felt astoundingly good to walk around the hotel and notice all of its sinners engrossed in the binders I had forced upon them. Not only because it was always a great joy and pleasure to see people do what I tell them to do, like the obedient little worms they should be, but also because I could tell some of them already seemed to like the book they had to read.

Good! Very good. All according to plan!

At a certain point, I also entered the kitchen. I almost never went there, but today apparently was a day I felt like inspecting the kitchen for book-avoiding sinners as well. Inside, Vaggie was sitting at the kitchen table, reading her book. I saw Angel Dust’s book as well, but the moronic pervert himself wasn’t around at the moment.

"He’s taking a piss," Vaggie said, without looking up from her binder.

"I see," I said.

"He’ll be back soon."

"Alright then."

"Hurt Charlie and I’ll fucking kill you."

I grinned, amused at the sudden threat, and approached Vaggie. "My dear, I have no intention of doing such a thing!"

"I’m just saying." She sniffled curtly. "Wipe her damn toothpaste off your face already."

Impressed – and lightly abashed, admittedly – I did. 

A strange, quiet pause fell in between us.

Not knowing what else to do, I folded my hands on my back and bent my torso towards the moth demon girl a bit. I was surprised to see Charlie’s ex-lover had _fulfilled_ the fifty page-requirement I had asked of her already!

 _"My!_ You seem to have taken a liking to the book I picked out for you." 

"Of course – it’s right up my alley." Vaggie turned a page. "I don’t know how you came to know what kind of books I wanted to read when I was still alive (and I don’t want to know, really), but this one’s definitely one of them. Margaret Atwood is amazing. Her dystopian books are so beautifully haunting."

Ah – that barely-hidden enthusiastic tone of voice. So Vaggie was a reader! I suspected as much. 

"Good to know you’re enjoying yourself," I said, nodding approvingly.

"I really did enjoy it, yeah." Vaggie turned her head towards me for a moment and gave me a small nod. "I needed this. Thanks, Alastor." 

Unable to react right on the spot, I gaped at her. Vaggie ran her fingers through the pages of the binder with a frown, while I stood there and did the best I could to convince myself that yes, I indeed had heard her correctly. 

"I – Yes!" I cleared my throat. "Yes. Well. You’re welcome!"

"Why does it only say random words after page 50, though?" she wanted to know, but I didn't answer her. 

Before Angel Dust had returned from his sanitary visit, I found myself walking out of the kitchen. I had to. I needed to get out of there as fast as I could.

I felt weirdly accomplished. 

And I didn’t like that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I read 'The Catcher in the Rye' for the very first time, I was like 17 and didn't really get or like it. Holden was a whiny little jerk, I thought. But then I read it a second time, when I was a bit older, and I actually liked it a lot better then. Why was that? Maybe I understood the story and its characters better, now that I had gotten 'better' at reading? Who knows?  
> Anyway, the story's about Holden Caulfield, a pessimistic teenager that runs into all kinds of trouble as he tries and fails to get the world around him. He's an icon of teen rebellion, apparently, but in the end (if you ask me), he's just a boy that really needed some love, attention and a pat on the head.  
> The book was the most censored work of fiction in high schools and libraries in America, because of it's vulgar language (which really isn't all that bad, really). Also, a lot of shootings have been associated with 'The Catcher'. That, too, probably played part in the bannings...


	21. The Color Purple (Alice Walker)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apart from the dozens of books he _has_ to read, Alastor starts reading a new one, based on Charlie's recommendation. His feelings for her begin to unnerve him.

Besides violently encouraging the hotel’s residents to keep on reading, I also read a lot of the original works of the binders I had given the hotel’s residents myself that morning. 

Well I _had_ to read, hadn’t I? Many sinners had been provided books that I hadn’t read back in my days – either because I simply didn’t give them a chance or because they were written after my despicable death. Furthermore, in all honesty, if I _truly_ wanted to quiz the sad dwellers of Hell about the stories they had to explore, I should be properly prepared _myself._

It was only fair, no? 

Fortunately, I had read a lot of the stories I had passed out as well. All in all, I think I merely needed to read a simple twenty books – and even then, I only needed to read them till the fiftieth page. Easy. Not a big deal to accomplish for someone as well-read as I happened to be… I just needed to make sure I indeed had read all of the books before the deadline I had given the sinners. Oh – and needed to make good notes of the works of fiction, naturally. 

One would think I’d be sick and tired of reading and books by the time noon crept closer, but they’d be oh so _very_ wrong! Yes indeed!

Reading wasn’t a chore for me, after all, even when it secretly _was,_ and _do_ keep in mind I had knowingly stayed out of the library when I read all the other books. Just to keep that place sacred, to keep that chamber a safe haven for me to go to when it was almost time for my well-deserved break.

So when the old grandfather clock in my own room struck twelve, I stood up right away, leaving the book I had been reading behind me as I rushed out of the room – most likely a lot faster than was needed.

  
**AaA  
  
**

When I entered Charlie’s library, she was already there.

Charlie sat on the chaise longue, her legs all curled up on the couch and her book resting in her lap, on a small, velvet pillow. She looked up when I came her way and gifted me a smile that, each and every time I met up with her, seemed to get more special, more meaningful. Almost as if that lovely, welcoming smile of hers was for my eyes only. 

"Oh, hi Al!"

My _goodness_ did I love that happy, peppy tone that angelic voice had! It sent shivers right down my spine!

"Hello, Charlie!" I greeted her in return. Normally, this simple message would be, by far, too enamored, too high-pitched for the likes of me, of course – but what did that matter? Right now, it fit my mood and it fit the song my heart sang whenever it was close to hers, so all was good. Nerve-wrecking, yes, but _good._

As I sat down next to Charlie, she turned herself my way. She combed through her hair restlessly with her long, slender fingers and gave me the impression she wanted to ask me something, but didn’t know for sure whether or not she should.

I put my legs over one another and leaned my face on my hand, grinning questioningly at her.

"What’s eating you, my dear? Do tell me."

"Well, it’s just that…" Charlie gave me a confused look, "…everybody seems to be reading all of a sudden…?"

I nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, yes yes. That caught my eye as well! My, what a _remarkable_ thing to happen all of a sudden, wouldn’t you say so? _Very_ strange indeed!"

She chuckled, slightly amused. "Vaggie already told me _you_ are behind it all, Al, so you can cut that cute, innocent Bambi-act of yours."

"… _Bambi-_ act?" I repeated, hiding my utter disgust behind a very strained smile.

"I wonder what you’ve got up your sleeve, making all the hotel’s sinners read like that. I guess it has got something to do with that plan of yours – you know, the one you didn’t want to talk to me about yet?"

"Nobody has ever called me _cute, innocent_ and _Bambi_ and lived to tell," I slowly said.

"Oh I will, though…" Charlie grinned at me, wiggling her eyebrows. _"…deerie."_

Oh my dear _god._

The urge to fling her horribly adorable self against a wall and kiss her cutesy-words-spreading mouth silly started to well up deep inside of me again – but I was able to contain that savage feeling. Barely – just barely. 

I shouldn’t lose control. 

I sighed and rubbed my forehead with somewhat shaky fingers, snickering. 

"Putting that aside, Charlie… you’re right about my plan. The ‘not-planning-to-tell-you-about-it’-part of it, that is! I _will_ tell you, though. Eventually. When I’ve got some results back."

"What, like, the results of their oral examination or something?" she said. 

A short, quiet pause.

"Now why did I have to say the word ‘oral’," Charlie then muttered.

"I haven’t got the faintest idea, my dear," I said.

"I shouldn’t have said that."

"No you shouldn’t."

"Oh god I’m so embarrassed forget I said that oh sweet jesus now I’m starting to think—."

"Then _please_ talk about something else already, Charlie."

"Right – okay okay! H-here!"

She hastily took something behind her back and attempted to give it to me. 

"You… uhm, you read all of _The Divine Comedy_ this week, right? I had noticed," Charlie said as I took the book out of her hands.

I couldn’t help but sneer. "My dear, I haven’t exactly read all of the _Comedia,_ no. That thing’s a _giant._ I just read a fairly good translation of a part of the masterpiece. But yes, you’re right – I did finish _that_ one. So what’s this, hm?"

"Well, first of all, have you actually read this one already?" Charlie wanted to know, eyeing me sternly. "Because if you have, I need to put it back and find you something else."

I looked at her in surprise. "You picked out a book for me?"

"Uhm, yes – two can play that game or something like that?" Charlie chuckled nervously and clasped her hands together. "A-anyway, it’s _Wuthering Heights_ from Emily Brontë. I… actually never read it myself, but according to the internet, it’s a really good read! So I thought… well, maybe Al would like to read it?"

"As a matter of fact, I indeed never read this," I admitted. "I did read _about_ it, though. Apparently, it’s a book filled with the _stupidest,_ most _ignorant_ fictional characters you’ll ever read and you can’t help but intensely hate them all at the end of the story."

Charlie’s shoulders dangled a bit at that. "Oh."

"So _naturally_ I can’t wait to read it!" I grinned.

Charlie instantly perked up again. "Yes? So you mean you’ll give it a try?"

"For sure! After all, ever since meeting you, giving things a try is _all_ what I’ve been doing, my love. It’s been very entertaining, so far!"

Charlie’s blush even reached her ears as she looked away from my fond smile, fiddling with the papery pages of her own novel.

"It’s the same for me, really. Being here with you like this – getting into books and… getting to know you better… It’s like a whole new world has been opened up for me, and that’s all thanks to you, Alastor. So… thank you."

I wanted to make a comment on that, something about coincidence, something about Vaggie, something about Charlie calling me by my full name… but the words seemed to get stuck inside of me when the blonde princess silently moved closer to me and nuzzled her face affectionately against my arm. I looked at her and still couldn’t bring myself to say anything – not when she kept getting closer to me, not when she carefully placed herself onto my lap, her legs dangling to the side… not even when she rested her head against my chest with a soft sigh.

"I love you, Al."

And then she opened up her book again and continued reading.

There were a lot of things whirling around in my head at that moment. Lots and lots of things indeed. She was already at page 20 – I could tell from this position. That shocked me: she had only been here for a quarter of an hour at most – since when had she started reading so fast? Was it because of my anticipated confession? Did it mean _that_ much to her?

Secondly, I couldn’t read like this. I couldn’t read a single word with Charlie sitting on my lap and blocking my sight with her hair and her heartfelt spoken words, since they made my eyes twitch and choke everything witty I wanted to spit out right in my throat, before it ever had a chance of leaving my mouth.

"Charlie," I said, my voice now sounding a lot more strained and strangled than I had wanted it to sound.

Charlie, who actually was reading, _really_ reading, the book with all of her undivided attention, shifted her face upwards, but her bright, curious eyes only followed when she had finished the last sentence.

"Yes?"

I sneaked a hand behind her delicate neck and gave it a gentle pull, stealing another kiss from her. 

I heard a surprised mewl, although Charlie soon melted into the kiss. The book slowly tumbled out of her grasp, falling on the carpet of the library with a dull thud. Her hands flew up to my face, taking hold of it, and her soft, thoughtful touches to my skin made me feel light in the head and warm all over the rest of my body.

I was starting to lose control again – I _felt_ I was, with every passionate, desperate kiss I shared with this angelic demoness, and it was both liberating as it was spine-chillingly _horrendous._

What would be left of me if I truly lost control?

What would become of me? 

It was Charlie who eventually pulled back – and she pinched my cheek, giving me a smile filled with so much love and adoration that it made my heart somersault in delight.

Then, without saying anything, she slid off my lap and picked up both our books from the ground – apparently, mine had found its way to the floor as well at one point. She took one of my hands, put my book into it and let go. Then she took my other hand and resolutely intertwined her fingers with mine, before finally snuggling against me and focussing most of her attention on her book again.

I held her hand tightly and took a few almost inaudible breaths to calm down. After that, I followed her example and started to read. 

  
**AaA**   
  


I watched as Charlie closed the door of the library behind her. Break time was over; it was time for the both of us to leave the cozy security of the chamber filled with books, stories, secrets and coyly exchanged kisses and continue the daily grind, as always. 

Charlie stared at the door for a while, then spun around to smile at me. 

"So Al – do you have a busy afternoon ahead of you?"

"I have!" I nodded. 

"I bet you do, huh." Her smile faltered a bit. "You know, I’m not sure if I should ask this, but I’m going to do it anyway…"

"My, how bold of you."

Charlie started to scratch her underarm, avoiding my gaze. "I… guess you’re going to do what you’re most of the time are doing whenever you… get the opportunity, right? Not that I’m going to tell you that you shouldn’t do that! Because I won’t, I – I won’t force you to stop doing that, I… know I’ll only make things worse that way, but… yeah, that’s what you’ll be doing, probably…"

I cocked my head, cracking my neck in the process. 

_"Jesus,_ Al," Charlie shuddered. 

"Oh yes, I’d _gladly_ do all the things you’d rather not have me doing to your dear sinners and I’d _relish_ in their delicious despair," I informed Charlie, ignoring her earlier remark. ‘However, I don’t have time to heavily torment those pesky losers at the moment! Only a little. Grand and bloody torture-schemes just don’t fit my schedule right now!"

Charlie blinked, surprised. "It – it doesn’t?"

"No!"

"So you’re… _not_ going to give them a hard time today?"

"Not today, not tomorrow and _probably_ not the day after tomorrow, either," I said. "Like I said, my dear: I just don’t have time for that! Believe it or not, I’ve actually got to do something that’s _more_ important than making those sinners wish they were never born in the first place."

Charlie nodded eagerly, clearly waiting for me to elaborate on that. 

I grinned and shook my head, grabbing her face and teasingly fondled her cheeks.

"You Little Miss Nosey! It’s no use, I won’t be telling you what I’ll be busy with! Not yet, anyway. I’ll reveal this much though: it’s got to do something with that plan of mine."

"I figured," Charlie said, rubbing over her cheeks as soon as I let go of her. She sounded pleased.

"Well there you have it!" I folded my arms on my back and grinned at her expectantly. "I won’t be _excessively_ bothering your hotel’s patrons, for the following couple of days. Does that ease your mind?"

"It’s doesn’t necessarily ‘ease my mind’, Al – for some reason, you _never_ truly ease my mind – but it _does_ makes me happy that you found something _nice_ to do, to get rid of your boredom. Something that doesn’t involve hurting others."

 _"Directly_ hurting others – indirectly, I can assure you I’m hurting at least _some_ of them," I cackled, wistfully recalling Angel Dust’s wailing earlier today. "And please don’t forget that there’s always a chance of me obliterating them anyway, if they fail to meet my expectations."

"I’m proud of you," Charlie said.

I stared at her.

"I’m _serious,_ Charlie. There _will_ be some bodies to bury, some damned souls to mourn, if things don’t work out my way."

But the Princess of Hell only shook her head, as if she was saying it was no use for me to try and go against her. She looked up at me with kind, approving eyes – eyes that always knew how to completely bewitch me, in the loveliest way possible. She came a little closer and stood on the tips of her toes to reach my ears.

"Just so you know," her soft voice whispered, "I’m at page 49 right now."

Then she pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. 

"I’ll talk to you later, Alastor."

Dumbfounded and all kinds of confused, I nodded a bit as I watched her walk away from me, her steps light and bouncy. I brought a hand up to my face, touching the skin Charlie had caressed with her lips. Tenderly at first... but then my nails started digging into it, drawing blood.

What was upsetting me so?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Color Purple' probably had the most shocking first couple of chapters I've read in a long time. In just a few sentences, the African-American narrator, Celie, tells you all about how awful her life is and how many times a day she's abused and raped by her own father - and the poor girl's only 14. She's married off to a horrible man only known as Mister and her horrible life continues being horrible for a while, until she gets to known a few strong women who refuse to let themselves get hurt by the men around them. Celie even falls in love with Shug, another woman. There are many, many more things that happen in the book - but believe me when I tell you it's a great work of art, and one that actually has a happy ending,  
> Many cities in the US tried to ban the book because they believed it to be bad, due to it's language, the sexual violence in it and because of the homoerotic undertones. Pretty sad if you think about it, really.


	22. The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie strikes up a conversation with Vaggie - about Alastor. It goes about as well as you would expect.

Things sure were a lot quieter around the hotel, now that Alastor had… uhm, inspired the entire population of the establishment to stop doing their usual not-helpful and not-good-for-redemption -things and just… sit down and read some literature.

Maybe there was an aggressively enthusiastic literary teacher hidden in Alastor all along! Or a very hostile librarian – one that would rip out your eyes if you had the nerve to return books way past their due date.

Still, I liked it!

Whatever Al was up to, I really appreciated he was doing something to help me out with the hotel and its sinners. I shouldn’t be too surprised, since he had promised to help me ever since first meeting him, but I couldn’t help but get this really warm, fuzzy feeling inside when I thought about it.

But maybe that was also because, you know… I had fallen for him and everything.

I knew I had – I had known for a long time I was busy falling in love with him harder than I had intended to. But even though I valiantly tried to stop myself from giving in to that simple, yet forceful need to be with him, it was no use. Alastor had a certain charm to him that made his whole existence irresistible to me, that drew me closer to him, made me want to hold his hand and wholeheartedly accept all of his hard, sharp, ecstatic kisses.

Alastor’s kisses were weird, a bit painful and sloppy. They were kisses given by somebody who _really_ didn’t know how to do something as simple and sweet as kissing, but sure as heck wanted to learn from experience and get better at them.

And so I lost myself into _every single thrilling one_ of them.

Now, I had been in love a couple of times before, naturally… but each and every time, I was stunned, once again, about just how much impact even the most awkward, most clumsy displays of affection would have on me, as long as they were lovingly done by the person I happened to be in love with.

And even though I had just said goodbye to Alastor, I couldn’t wait to see him again.

I was such a mess.

I wondered what kind of effect my current state of mind would have on the hotel, really…

Chuckling and rubbing over my own cheeks nervously, I went into my and Vaggie’s office. I still had to do a lot of administration work, after all… but now that there wasn’t much other things to take care off (let’s not forget that everybody was _reading_ and not in the mood for doing any other kinds of activities), I could just take things easy. There was no rush… and I should enjoy that as long as I could.

  
**CcC**

  
Vaggie came into the office some time later. She, too, had her face buried into a binder and didn’t even look up when she walked towards my desk. Only when I feared she was going to bump into it, she finally looked up.

"Hey Charlie."

She smacked the binder shut. Her face had looked troubled by something, but she was smiling when she looked at me – and for once ever since our break-up, it didn’t feel like she was forcing herself to bend her lips like that. That sight alone made me heave a sigh in relief: see? We were getting better! Our friendship would survive this, no doubt about it!

"Hi Vaggie!"

Happy to have an excuse to stop working (even though I admittedly was doing a great job at it up until this point), I closed my laptop and propped my elbows on top of it, looking from Vaggie to her book and from her book back to Vaggie.

"What?" Vaggie chuckled as she sat down at her own desk, next to mine. 

"I see he’s making you read as well," I said, nodding to the binder Vaggie now pushed further away from her – she had to make room for her own laptop, after all.

Vaggie eyed me warily for a bit and momentarily, I wondered if I had underestimated the bitterness a not-entirely-voluntarily break-up could bring to a single person. Although I hadn’t really told her about whatever that was going on between me and Alastor, I knew Vaggie was aware of… well, of _that._ She had a knack for noticing those kind of things.

Was it too soon to talk to her about Alastor? Maybe it was. 

"I see he’s _not_ making _you_ read," Vaggie then said, making me snap out of it.

"Huh? What?"

"I don’t see a binder that belongs to you around here," Vaggie pointed out. "So I bet Alastor didn’t give _you_ a book and a scary death threat this morning. Did he?"

 _No but he did give me a mouthful of tongue_ , I almost blurted out – but didn’t. 

"Um, no," I hastily admitted. "He _did_ recommend a couple of books for me to read, though!" 

"Oh, really?" Vaggie typed something on her laptop – her password, probably – and then waited for it to start up, looking at me over her screen. "A _couple_ of books even, huh?"

"Yes – I’m now reading the third."

Vaggie just hummed and nodded at first. Then her eye grew a few sizes and her jaw started dropping down. Her alarmed, over-the-top expression was pretty hilarious.

"Wait, hold the fucking phone – Charlie, you’ve already read _two books?"_

"Yes!" I proudly sat up a bit, pushing my chest forward. "Pretty cool, right?"

I decided to keep quiet about the fact it were very thin books. That’s not important. Psh, of course not.

Vaggie calmed down a little and produced a small, yet genuine smile. "Yeah, hearing that you’re actually reading written works of fiction… that _is_ pretty cool. Wow, Charlie, I didn’t even _know_ you like reading!"

"I don’t, really. I just… started doing it one day. Because…"

My voice trailed off. 

"Because Alastor _made_ you, didn’t he," Vaggie frowned.

"No, he _suggested_ I should try it," I rectified. "And I only got interested in reading books because he seemed to like it so much. Reading looked like fun, so… I asked him to pick out a book for me."

Vaggie nodded ever so slightly. "This… has got something to do with the place you two run off to every day around noon, isn’t it?"

"Yes. It’s…" I hesitated. Should I tell Vaggie about the library? I felt like I was obliged to tell her, since… well, Vaggie liked books, and perhaps she could pick up her old hobby, just like Al had done.

"No." Vaggie stopped me before I could make a decision. "Don’t worry, Charlie, you don’t have to tell me. That place is your and Alastor’s – I wouldn’t feel at ease there anyway, probably."

I looked down and dragged my nails over the keys of my laptop.

"So you really do know, huh."

 _"Yeah_ I know." Vaggie sighed and pushed her laptop away from her again, leaning back into her chair. "I’m not stupid, Charlie, and you’re a damn open book. You fucking _radiate_ happiness whenever you’re smitten with… whatever. Just like that Radio Douche, really. Here I was, thinking at least _he’d_ have the power to suppress his emotions since he’s _always_ doing that – but nope, Alastor’s just as much of an idiot as you are."

"I’m so sorry Vaggie," I heard myself blurt out. 

"For what?"

I pursed my lips together tightly and pulled on some bangs of hair. "I… well, maybe this went too fast? I.. I didn’t expect me to fall in love again so soon after… you know…"

"But it happened anyway, didn’t it?" Vaggie sighed, rubbing two fingers over the side of her head. "Hey – it’s _okay,_ Charlie. I’ve been there, too. Sure, I’m not going to tell you I’m _delighted_ about it, I’m not going to… put up _ribbons_ and _balloons_ to celebrate this wonderful occasion, but… I get it. It’s not like you got feelings for him on purpose. It just happened. Don’t sweat it. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, breathing out. "Thanks, Vaggie…"

"Hey, don’t ‘thanks Vaggie’ me yet: just because you fell in love with Alastor and he seems – emphasises on _seems_ – to mean well with you, doesn’t mean that I all of a sudden _trust_ him now," Vaggie huffed and put her arms over one another. "Even if he _does_ have a pretty decent taste in books."

I grinned and leaned over my desk. "What’s he making you read?"

" _The Handmaid’s Tale_. I had wanted to read it for a while now. I couldn’t when I was still alive and… walking the streets." Vaggie roughly wiped some white hair out of her remaining eye. "I can read it now, though."

"It is good?" 

"Yep. It’s dark and depressing and foreboding and I absolutely _love_ it."

I could tell from her smirking face she genuinely meant it and I chuckled. "You’re _weird,_ Vaggie."

She smirked. "Oh yeah? What are you reading now, then?"

I stuck out my chin defiantly. " _Pride and Prejudice_."

"Oh."

"What?"

"Oh my _god,_ Charlie." Vaggie actually started to laugh out loud now.

 _"What?"_

"Oh Charlie, you’re such a cheesy, romance-loving _goofball._ That’s like the most prudish, proper piece of romcom-chicklit that was _ever_ made!"

"Hey, shut up – I like it!" I made a comical pout while Vaggie kept laughing. Her laugh sounded like a happy melody to my ears and I was so _psyched,_ really…! It had been some time ever since the last time she roared with laughter like this and it felt _good_ hearing it now, you know? It felt _hopeful._ Like a very tight, suffocating string around our shared atmosphere had finally been cut loose. We could _breathe_ again.

"And _Alastor_ recommended it to you – are you for real? The bloodthirsty, creepy, insane overlord with a radio up his ass read fucking _Jane Austen?"_ Vaggie shook her head, her laugher slowly fading. "Thanks for telling me. I’ll think of a way to blackmail him with that beautiful bit of information one day."

An idea suddenly welled up – and I instantly acted on it, literally jumping out of my chair.

"Vaggie, Vaggie! You… hey, you’ve read _Pride and Prejudice_ as well, right?" 

She shrugged. "Well yeah, I _had_ to, for my studies. Wasn’t impressed by it, though."

"There’s something on page 171 I should read." I felt my heart racing as I watched Vaggie automatically search through her faded memories – I could tell by the way her eye turned upwards. "Alastor said… uhm… well, anyway… t-there’s something he needs to tell me, and apparently, page 171 holds the key."

"Hm-hm," Vaggie vaguely responded.

"Do you… do you happen to know what Al could have meant by—"

 _"Charlie."_

Vaggie’s sudden raised voice sounded hard – and a bit hurt. 

"I’m happy for you, I really am. But breaking up with you broke my heart."

I shut up.

"I’m over it now, I _promise_ you I am. But, Charlie, I – I _really don’t like_ Alastor. I can’t stand him for taking away the small chance I could have had to mend things with you. I can’t stand him for making you smile like I once made you smile. And I can’t stand him for many, many more things – I just… kind of _hate_ the guy. I’m not proud of it, but I can’t help it." Vaggie inhaled sharply, squeezing the bridge of her nose. "I’m… I’m sorry for that."

I wavered my hands around in a strange attempt to handwave her apology away. "O-oh, no, I understand. I—"

"I don’t know what’s on page 171 of _Pride and Prejudice_." Vaggie suddenly closed her laptop again and gathered the things she needed for her work. "But in all honesty, Charlie, even if I _did_ know what was on that page, I wouldn’t tell you. It’s ridiculous, I know. I’m being very childish here." 

"H-hey…" I started, as Vaggie moved her chair away from her desk, "what are you—"

"I’m going to work elsewhere. I have to. I… god, I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry."

There were tears glistering in her eye and just when some threatened to trickle down her cheek, Vaggie forcefully turned her head away from me and stormed out of the office, leaving me all by myself again. 

I quietly stared at the opened door Vaggie left behind her. I gripped my own arms tightly as I nearly folded myself into a small ball in my chair. Refusing to cry over something I had basically brought onto myself, I chomped down on my lower lip hard.

Like I had feared, it had been too soon to talk to Vaggie about Al – and too soon to think our bond had recovered from our shared, but not equally painful heartbreak. I should apologize to Vaggie for my selfishness later.

I sniffed a few times, rubbed my eyes, even though they were still dry, and then opened up my laptop again. 

Right – back to work. Work work work!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read 'The Great Gatsby' multiple times, and every time I read it, it seems to get a bit better. I really like the narration, the characters (yes, ever that self-absorbed Daisy) and the way the author writes. It's so poetic.^^  
> In a nutshell, the story's about the rise and slow, painful fall of the wealthy, but mysterious Jay Gatsby. Our narrator, however, is one Nick Carraway, Gatsby's neighbor and number one fanboy. The two become friends and through Nick, Gatsby gets to meet up again with his old flame, Daisy, who's Nick's cousin - and she's married to a huge prick. Romance and drama ensues, eventually resulting in Gatsby's sad end.  
> The book wasn't really banned or challenged, but people did accuse the book of being anti-Semitic. This was fiercely denied by Fitzgerald, by the way.


	23. The Call of the Wild (Jack London)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie feels miserable because of her falling-out with Vaggie. Alastor (unknowingly) does something Charlie _really_ isn't in the mood for.

That evening, after working hours had – sort-of officially – had been over for me and the rest of the hotel’s staff, I sat in my bedroom, on the small stool of my large, white-and-gold vanity. I stared at myself in the mirror as I slowly combed through my hair. Normally, I had Razzle and Dazzle to do that for me, but… well, I sent them to mom and dad’s place a few hours ago. Didn’t really feel like having them eye me worriedly all day while I was moping around here…

Well, at least I had gotten a lot of work done today. I had told myself I _had_ to wrestle my way through at least half of all the hotel’s chores that had got something to do with the administration this afternoon – as a way to make up to myself and Vaggie for making her feel sad and miserable. I liked to ‘punish’ myself like that whenever I had done something I _knew_ I shouldn’t have.

A brutally boring and tedious thing to force myself to do… but hey! It was done! Now Vaggie and I had a lot less administration stuff to do tomorrow, and that was good.

But god, those dark bags under my eyes _certainly_ weren’t.

Although it was still relatively early in the evening, I was thinking about turning in early. I was tired. I felt gloomy, hollowed out and I… I actually just didn’t want to see anybody right now. 

Angel Dust would only make stupid, hurtful comments – not even out of any ill will, but because he just… had some trouble with being kind to others without feeling embarrassed about it. He was getting there – I knew he was – but still. I couldn’t put up with him right now.

Husk… nah. I’d see him drink again. And then I had to scold him again for drinking again. Not exactly in the mood to do that.

Vaggie didn’t even want to be in the same room with me. Just a temporary setback, I’m sure. But there’s no way I could just walk up to her now and tell her to please please talk to me again please please with a cherry on top.

Niffty…

…well I actually would be okay with talking to Niffty.

And then there was Alastor.

My love-struck heart sparked a little, just from me merely _thinking_ about him, but it was no use: I don’t believe I even wanted to see _him_ right now. I mean, I was a _wreck._ Also, he’d probably want to kiss me. I didn’t want to – not right now. Maybe later, when I felt better, or… when I hadn’t gotten all these conflicting feelings and thoughts buzzing around in my head. 

I could go for a hug, though…

Maybe I should look around – see if I still had that big, fluffy pillow mom bought for me once years ago, when I was about to move out of my parents’ place…

Yeah – yeah! That was a good idea. That way, I didn’t have to feel alone tonight and still got all the peace and quiet I needed. 

Feeling just a little bit better, I put down my brush on the dressing table and got up. 

Right! If I was a huge, pink pillow that hadn’t been used in years… now where would I be?  
  


**CcC  
  
**

I found my pillow half an hour later. It had been sitting in my wardrobe, hidden underneath some old clothes I never even wore anymore (after all, I only wore my working uniform most of these days) and therefore, it wasn’t even dusty. Just a bit – flat. 

Well I’d just have to fluff it a bit.

While fluffing my fluffy pillow to make it even fluffier, there suddenly was a upbeat knocking on my bedroom’s door. Annoyed, but not tired nor rude enough to simply yell at the unknown visitor to just leave me the hell alone, dammit, I halted my ferocious fluffing with an exhausted sigh. Then I fixed my appearance a bit and padded to the door of my bedroom.

I didn’t know _why_ I was surprised to find Alastor standing outside, but I was. Feeling _extremely_ vulnerable with only my thin nightgown covering me and an old pillow in my hands, I tried to push the stuffed thing behind me while simultaneously closing the door.

Of course, Alastor, rightfully fed up with (and maybe even slightly traumatized by) getting doors slammed shut in his face, simply _jammed_ a hand on the doorpost with the _speed of light_. As a result, the door slammed _hard_ against his hand and fingers – and I brought my hands to my mouth in shock as the door shook in its hinges and slowly croaked open again.

“Oh my god – Sorry Al!”

Alastor’s ever-smiling face didn’t give away any the tiniest hint he was in pain. He did mutter a low ‘ouch’, though.

“I’m sorry!” I kept on stammering, dropping my pillow on the ground and talking a – careful! – hold of his hurt hand, “I’m so very very sorry, Al! Does it hurt? You can tell me!”

I feverishly studied his claw-like hand and fingers, but it was in vain. Al’s hand was mostly black, after all – and it didn’t bleed, so I couldn’t tell if it was bruised. However, I did feel his phalanges were getting warm… and the middle of his hand was starting to swell up.  
  
Ohh, this had _hurt._ This had hurt _badly._

Alarmed, I looked up at him again. “Y-you should cool it, before it gets wors—”

Half of my words I swallowed again, since I only then noticed how close Alastor’s face was to mine. His good hand’s fingers were slowly tracing up and down my jawline and his eyes had gotten half-lidded – two unmistakable signs he was going in for a kiss.

Feeling guilty and too weary to reject him, I decided not to fight it… but I couldn’t help but automatically flinch when I felt the brush of his lips against mine.

It was just a flinch, really, and it was over and done with in less than a blink of the eye, but Alastor pulled back _right_ away and stared at me as if he only _now_ had felt the door crush his hand and fingers. 

“W-what?” I asked, fazed by his actions.  
  
“You winced,” Alastor said.

“I-I did?” I stupidly said.

“Yes you did.” His eyes darkened a bit, almost but not quite in a creepy way. “Why did you wince, Charlie?”

I puffed my cheeks and fumbled around with his hand, since I was still holding it and wasn’t sure what else to do with it. 

I knew lying to Alastor wasn’t going to do me any good, so I decided to be honest. “Because I… don’t really feel like kissing you right now. I’m… irritated, and I’m a bit out of sorts and I just—”

He shushed me by literally squeezing my mouth shut.

“You should have said so.”

Was he actually _reprimanding_ me? What the _hell?_

My already abused and exhausted nerves were sick and tired of yet another mental beat down and I harshly pushed his hand off me. “Well maybe _you_ should have _asked_ first, before just… _diving in_ like that!”

He blinked, not saying much for a few seconds – just standing and stiffly grinning there for a while. The radio static around him let me know he was thinking, though.

“You were going to let me kiss you even though you obviously didn’t want to,” he finally said. “Why?”

At that, I unceremoniously dropped his hand and shrugged, looking away. “I thought… I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

He let out a laugh. _“Ha!_ And you thought you could realize that by letting me have my merry way with you?”

“Well I wouldn’t let you go _that_ far, but—”

“Charlie, I _only_ want all of you if you want all of _me.”_

I flushed at that, getting all warm and fuzzy inside. “Y-you… what?”

Al observed my response – and slowly but surely, realization started to dawn on him, too. He didn’t blush as aggressively as I did, but there was definitely some rapidly changing skin color going on in his face.

“No – you – my dear, what I am trying to say is: I don’t desire to woo a lady who’s only half-heartedly in it to please me. Because that certainly _doesn’t_ please me. Heavens, the only reason I want to do such bizarre things with you in the first place is because you seem to like it, and it feels good doing activities with you that entertain you so. That, in turn, entertains _me.”_

I had to giggle – I couldn’t help it. His bumbling and twisted ways of telling me nice things the mean way and utterly _failing_ at it was weirdly endearing and it actually cheered me up a bit.  
  
“What are you even saying, Al?”

He smiled confusedly. “Well! Clearly, I have no idea.”

“Okay then – in that case, let’s make it a rule that you, _before_ you decide to tactlessly make out with me, ask me for my permission, first.” I looked up at him gleefully. “How does that sound?”

Al tapped a finger against his chin. “Hmm, I’m not sure. It doesn’t sound like something I would want to do, frankly.”

“I know, but it’s the easiest way to find out if you can kiss me and get some joy out of it.” I pointed out. Then I put my arms on my back and shyly wiggled a bit back and forth. 

“Also, it’s… it’s pretty romantic.”

 _“Romantic,_ you say?” Alastor seemed to get more interested. “Would you like me to be more romantic?”

I slapped my hands against my cheeks in a weak attempt to stop them from reddening so very much.

“Y-yeah… I’d… very much like that.”

“Well then that does it! From now on, I’ll ask you for permission to kiss you before doing anything hasty.” He nodded, oddly satisfied with himself for some reason. His radio audience could even be heard clapping politely for him.

I smiled as I watched him feeling good about himself and realized I now felt a lot better, too. I never could have thought that smashing Al’s hand between my doorpost and door and arguing with him about the importance of consent would get me out of my glum frame of mind, but it had done just that, and for that, I was very thankful of Al. 

His poor hand and fingers would _definitely_ ache tomorrow, though.  
  


**CcC  
  
**

Alastor watched me in wonder as I picked up my pink pillow – I still felt pretty self-conscious about it, but he was going to see it eventually anyway, so it was no use to try and hide it.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, my dear, but it looks like you’re getting ready for bed already,” he said.

I patted my pillow, to get the newly caught-on dust off it. “You’re not wrong; I was planning to turn in early.”

“Ah. Why, though?” He now looked at the item in my hands as if he had never seen something like it before. “Is something bothering you, perhaps?”

“Yeah…” I admitted, while wrapping my arms around the pillow. “I had sort of a falling-out with Vaggie earlier today.”

Alastor nodded and seemed to want to hear more, so I went and told him all about what had happened in the office between me and Vaggie: the innocent banter, the jokes, the books, and – the sudden turn of events. Her hurtful look, my bad conscience about her reaction… I tried to keep his name out of it as much as possible, but I knew Al was smart enough to fill in the blank spots I left in the story.

When I had told him everything, I heaved a sigh. “And now I’m feeling kind of… out of it, I guess. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well neither do I,” Al bluntly said. “Can’t say I care all that much about your mothy, former lover, I’m afraid. I’d say you should just cheer up already, my dear – you’ve been feeling bad about it long enough for now, hmm?”

“Hmm,” I parroted him, rolling with my eyes.

He chuckled at that. “Besides, even though you’re always a sight for sore eyes, you’re still the prettiest when you smile that gorgeous smile of yours, Charlie dear!”

“I’m not like _you,_ Al – I can’t put up a fake smile and pretend all is well with me when it’s really not. But it’s okay!” I quickly said, when I saw something that looked a lot like actual worry flash in his eyes. “I’ll feel better tomorrow. Really, I will! You wouldn’t believe what a good night’s rest can do for a person.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Alastor put his hands on his back. I could see his microphone stand swishing round and round behind him as he spun it, trying to think of something to say. 

“So.”

“So?”  
  
“Well, I don’t suppose there’s something I can do, now can I?”

“Naah.” I shook my head, smiling at him apologetically. “Sometimes you just can’t, Al. I just need to be alone for now.”

Alastor nodded in quiet understanding, still staring at the fluffy pillow. 

“You’re going to sleep with _that_ thing, I presume?”

“Yeah.” I felt my face growing warmer and chuckled awkwardly. “It was a gift from my mother. I got it out of my closet just now. It… um, gives me hugs, but it doesn’t give me anything else. It’s ideal when I want to be alone, but not… _alone-alone_ , you know?”   
  
“No,” Al curtly said. 

“I guess you never had a massively huge pillow for yourself, then,” I shrugged.

Alastor’s staring turned into full-on _glaring_ now, as if the pillow had personally offended him and everyone he held dear.

“Surely there are more... cooperative options to get you your needed daily dose of physical affection rather than… holding on to an old, lifeless stuffed cushion?”

“Yeah, I bet, but…” I bit back a yawn and leaned my shoulder against the doorpost. “…hey, Al, is it okay for me to… just go to bed now?”

“Of course!” His smile, that had started to weaken, suddenly sprung back into action and got all big and toothy again. “Yes! Certainly! Please, do get your rest! I will speak with you again tomorrow, alright?”

“Okay Al.” I gave him a grateful smile. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams, my dear.”

After shooting a final, nasty look at my pillow, Alastor made himself vanish into his usual dark, poofy clouds and I went back into my bedroom.

It wasn’t before I was already lying in bed and pulled my plush, soft pillow close to me that I came to comprehend what Alastor had meant to suggest back in the hallway.

And then I just laid there, thinking about what a stupid ditz I was for not realizing it sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never read 'The Call of the Wild' and I'm not sure I will. The book is said to be quite violent and gory, and frankly, that's not what I'm looking for in a book. Still, the story is pretty interesting:  
> Our main character is Buck, a spoiled dog who lives a happy life with his master. However, things change when he is abducted and sold off. He eventually becomes a sled dog in Alaska and is forced to get used to a much harsher, more unforgiving life. He changes masters pretty frequently and many of them don't treat him right. Still, his last master, Thornton, is a kind gold hunter and Buck stays by his side until Thornton is killed and Buck no longer has any reason to fight the 'call of the wild' he's been hearing all this time.  
> This book's often challenged because of its very dark and violent tone. Also, people mistakenly think it's a book for kids, because a dog's the main character. It really, REALLY isn't.


	24. James and the Giant Peach (Roald Dahl)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor, heavily confused and frustrated, _desperately_ tries to fall out of love with Charlie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to the lovely [Danie](https://twitter.com/eve_danie), who drew a cute scene from chapter 23! You can check it out [here](https://twitter.com/eve_danie/status/1221989232421425153?s=19).

When I went to bed, I had decided I was more than fed up with being in love.

Now, I had tried it out, I did, but I had come to the logical conclusion that I didn’t like it. No sirree.  
  
It didn’t entertain me like most things would entertain me. Now, saying that it didn’t entertain me at _all_ would be a great, humongous lie, however, because I hadn’t experienced anything quite as heart-wrenchingly entertaining as _this._ It felt like the biggest thrill one could possibly experience, like an endless roller coaster, each and every time my eye caught a glimpse of the lovely Demon Princess. But at the same time, I felt like drowning in a helpless, foreign feeling that I couldn’t control, not even in the slightest bits, no matter how much I tried. 

I had only experienced ‘good’ situations with love and Charlie up until recently, but then, a little while ago, she suddenly shied away from me, told me she wanted to be alone, preferred holding that blasted, ancient pillow of hers instead of—

Well I wasn’t _pleased_ with the whole situation and now my hand was hurting as well, so let’s keep it at that, now.

And I had felt so devastatingly defeated afterwards, so _tired_ and so _annoyed,_ I was willing to give up the whole world and a little bit more, just to get rid of that both mortifying as well as delightful sensation of anticipation I was constantly burdened with. 

Being in love was like a sweet curse. 

So before I closed my eyes that night, I told myself that I was done with it – with _all_ of it. With my overbearing radio audience, that seemed to have a mind on their own. With ‘love’, and whatever feelings that were closely connected with it. With losing control over myself and my own emotions, just because my heart couldn’t bear to be away from her. And with her herself – with Charlie, and every little thing she changed inside of me.

Sick and tired of it all, I was. 

And I was going to get rid of it.

Believe you me: before I would set a single step out of my bedroom the following morning, I would be over this insane disease I had been suffering just a tad too long from.

I swore I would.

  
**AaA  
  
**

Upon waking up in the morning, I found myself feeling incredibly relaxed and at ease. Almost as if my troubled mind had been completely emptied of every worry that could possibly stick to it (yes, I admit my hand was still _very_ sore and painful – but that, too, would eventually get better).

Now, one could argue I felt better because I, like Charlie, had decided to turn in early the night before. Because I, like Charlie, hadn’t been sleeping all that well for the last couple of days. Because I, like Charlie, hadn’t been all that upbeat, the day before.

One could argue that, yes.

But one would be wrong.

You see, I tried thinking about Charlie when I got myself dressed, to test the waters – but there was no reaction at all. I tried thinking about her when I made the bed, opened the curtains and polished my radio stand…

Nothing.

None.

Nada.

No skipping heartbeats – the cruel pleasure was _over._

I looked at myself in the mirror while I adjusted my bowtie and felt strangely nostalgic when I thought about how I acted the other day – nay, the other _weeks,_ even! I laughed heartily at my grinning reflection. Ha! How _strange_ had I acted – how unfitting for a cunning, devilish overlord as I happened to be!

Now, I did feel a pang of pitiful compassion for Charlie, that poor girl. She had woken up this morning, foolishly presuming that I had arisen like her, with all of my enamored feelings for her still intact and raving to go. Maybe she assumed to meet me in a bit again. My oh my, the look of pure horror in her eyes I’d behold, as soon as she would realize I no longer had any intention of kissing or holding her. The _anguish!_ The _pain!_ The sheer, raw sting of _despair!_

I hadn’t seen any of _those_ looks on her, no, just not quite yet.  
  
Now, I would see them – would _relish_ in them. I would feebly try to stop myself from laughing out loud as the beautiful princess would cry ugly tears and pound her shaking, fisted hands on my chest, _begging_ me to look at her again as I used looked at her, _before_ my big revelation the other day. 

Goodness, how… 

How **entertaining** that would be!

Oh my – I shouldn’t waste time merely fantasizing about it!

  
**AaA  
  
**

I firstly wanted to go to Charlie’s bedroom right away. I’d knock on her door, she’d open it, expecting me to be the same love-struck idiot I was for weeks – and then she’d only have to give me one good look to know that I had said goodbye to every tender feeling I ever harbored for her.

It would be a quick and beautiful downfall, surely.

But when I came close to Charlie’s chamber, I decided to simply _ignore_ her bedroom altogether, simply walking straight past it, having _zero_ interest in it or its inhabitant whatsoever. That way, during the course of the day, a very hurt and confused Charlie would slowly but surely realize how much I avoided her – how much I had lost of my love for her. I’d watch her fall into the agonizing pits of desperation and it would be _wonderful._

A most-fitting punishment for both her and the sad, _sad_ man with the broken hand she had almost made out of me.

Briskly, I walked further away from Charlie’s room, already thinking about what or who to have for breakfast before I’d have to pick up my reading again, when—

“Al!”

Charlie’s blonde head popped out of Angel Dust’s bedroom. In her arms, she carried a larger than life basket, filled to the brim with the bedding of the spider demon’s bed.

“Oof…” she huffed, putting the basket down and wiping her forehead.

Her face was red, sweaty and puffy from the effort. Her hair was a jumbled bird’s nest, the sleeves of her uniform were messily and unevenly rolled up.

She looked _ridiculously_ worn out, just from cleaning up one mere bed, but her eyes sparkled as soon as they made contact with mine, her lips curving upwards in a smile that left no doubt to anyone’s imagination about just how happy she was to see me – 

– and like I was suddenly punched in the gut, in the chest, maybe, I couldn’t breathe anymore. 

I could feel my last, valiant inhale of air getting stuck in my throat as Charlie approached me and stood still right in front of me, smiling timidly at me while boldly taking both of my hands in hers at the same time. She was gracefully gentle with the hurt one.

“Hi.”

Just like that.

Just like that.

_Just. Like. That._

“Charlie,” I heard myself say, my voice cracking as I pulled her against me and squeezed her soft, warm hands. “Charlie, Charlie, _Charlie.”_

Charlie, her face muffled by my chest, struggled to look up to me, her eyes big and overflowing with genuine concern.

“Are you okay, Al? You look a bit… um, shell-shocked.”

She somehow found the strength to wring one of her hands out of mine and raised it up, gently caressing the side of my face, marking the pathetic, immature denial of my love for her as _nothing more than that_ , and it hit me like a truck on fire.

I grinned to avoid sobbing form the irony of it all, silently laughing at my own nativity, and pressed my free hand onto hers, on my face.

“I give in, my love.”

“What – huh?” she asked.

I shook my head and brought up my other hand to her face, dragging my thumb over her lower lip in a silent question.

“O-okay,” she softly said.

I chuckled, my eyes glued on her lips still. “Why I haven’t even asked anything—“

“Yes you did.” 

And with that, I didn’t even bother going against her. I simply smiled, pulled her sultry face against mine and kissed her awaiting mouth. I wrapped both of my arms around her upper body as Charlie flung her arms around my neck and kissed me back with a hunger that almost put mine to shame. It was warm, it was dirty, it was heavenly and it was all I had needed to get the facts straight again.

When I finally had to push her back – my lungs couldn’t operate on breathy kisses alone after all – there was a long trail of spit connecting our mouths. Charlie let out a shaky, coy laugh when she noticed, rubbing it from her gasping mouth. At that, I took her hand, brought its back to my face and kissed the saliva from the skin of it.

“O-oh,” Charlie muttered.

I was pleased to see how hot and bothered she looked, just from that alone, and gave her a smile, gently putting her hand down again, at last. 

“So you’re feeling better, hm?”

Charlie’s smile grew larger than life and she nodded, explaining to me how much better she had felt after sleeping a few hours longer than normal, how bad she had felt about unwittingly denying me the hug I had wanted to give to her the evening before and how Vaggie had messaged her earlier today to tell her she was sorry for being awkward around Charlie and that she wanted to have breakfast with her.

All I could do was hold her loosely in my arms and smile in a dazed sort of relief.

  
**AaA**

  
There’s nothing noteworthy about how the rest of the day passed by, but I’ll try to describe it anyway.

I said goodbye to Charlie when she trotted off with Angel’s dirty laundry.

I had some breakfast.

I went back to my chamber.

I read at least fifty pages of two books.

Then, after a swift, but decent lunch, it was about time to go to Charlie’s library, where Charlie and I enjoyed our time alone. I found the book she had picked out for me hilariously _awful,_ but that only made it more fun for me to read and make sarcastic comments about it, laughing at Charlie’s repeated fussing I should just put it away if I hated it that much. I didn’t, though, and I wouldn’t stop teasing her about it either – until she found another, more satisfying way to shut me up.

Never thought I’d ever enjoy sweet things as much as I was doing now.

Also, Charlie reached page 72 today. I had playfully prevented her from reading too much today (although she still read _quite_ a lot these days), but still. She now didn’t even have to read 100 pages anymore before the sacred page 171 would reveal its secret to her.

Then break time was over and I had to pick up my self-inflicted duties.

I read and I read and by the time I decided to go out for some dinner, the day was almost over again.

So yes! Like I said beforehand, nothing all that noteworthy had happened today, mainly because I, like every single sinner in the hotel, was too occupied reading books.

However, something noteworthy was about to happen when I went to look for Charlie, just before bedtime. 

  
**AaA  
  
**

I found her at Husker’s bar, in the main hall of the hotel. By the looks of it, Vaggie, Husker and Angel Dust were with her.

She wasn’t alone, of course – Charlie seldom was alone. She was the kind of person that always had people around her that liked her and wanted to be with her, that was just the kind-hearted woman she happened to be.

Instead of just joining her and the others, I stood in the shadows and observed the quaint little conversation for a while. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but apparently, Angel Dust was telling the others about one of his many sexual escapades. He was a bit tipsy and Husker kept on refusing to pour him more wine, which made the spider demon even more annoying than he already was. Charlie was laughing at the silliness that happened before her eyes and even Vaggie, who had been nothing but a sulky moth for the past couple of days, was now seen smiling ever so slightly, while no doubt making crass comments on Angel’s unorthodox hobbies.

It was a fairly endearing and entertaining display of camaraderie, I had to say. Seeing Charlie get along so easily with her friends and co-workers made me proud of her. They said _I_ had the bone-chilling talent of vigorously charming myself into people’s personal spaces, but Charlie was certainly not a novice in this field of expertise, either. She was like a bright light bulb, attracting all the lowborn insects around her indiscriminately. And she actually meant _well_ with them. Heaven knows that if _I_ was like a light bulb, I’d zap the life _right_ out of their worthless bodies, ha ha!

Well, enough standing around! Time to make my dramatic entrance! 

“Good evening! How _charming_ to see all of you dear sinners here!” I greeted the others, while I made my way to the bar with a flourish.

“Hi Al!” Charlie said, that darling beauty – and that made exactly _one_ person who was happy to see me, as usual!

…or _was_ she?

“Hi Alastor.” Vaggie lifted a hand up from the bar’s wood in a greeting gesture.

“Well _hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii_ Al,” Angel chirped, hiccupping and trying his best to wink at me, only to fail and just blink with all of his eyes unsettlingly rapidly – yes, it was _unsettling,_ and that was coming from _me!_

Husker didn’t greet me with so much as words, but nodded at me, which was his way of communicating to others he actually didn’t mind their presence too much. I knew this, because he never nodded at me like that.  
  
A bit taken aback at this strange situation, I masterfully hid my bewilderment and sat down at the bar. There, I eyed the others with a condescending grin, leaning back.

“Well then! How are all of your reading assignments working out for you, hmm? Don’t forget tomorrow’s the examination! Oh ho ho, I _do_ wonder how many of you actually manage to complete the task I’ve demanded of you!”

“I’ve finished it,” Vaggie said. “Yesterday.”

I stared at her. _“All_ of it?”

“No, not _all_ of it – I told you, I can’t read past page 50. _None_ of us can.” Vaggie narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t know what kind of weird voodoo-magic you used on that binder, but for some reason, all other pages are just gibberish.”

_“Really_ now.” I said in an aloof tone of voice.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. What the fuck are you up to?” she growled.

I was about to shrug whimsically and give her an answer that would only confuse her more, when Angel Dust groaned loudly and pushed the moth demon out of the way.

“Ugggghhhhh how _caaaaaaaaares_ about your dumb book shit! More importantly, Al, dear ol’ buddy ol’ pal – what’s the deal between you and Miss Sunshine and Rainbows over here already, hmmm?”

Charlie blushed and pushed her hair behind her one of her ears. “U-uhm, I don’t think that’s any of your business, Angel.”

“You heard the lady!” I exclaimed gleefully – while grinding my teeth hard enough to make it hurt my jaws. “None of your business. Let’s keep it that way!”

“Soooooooooo you two fuckin’ already?” Angel asked.

_“Angel!”_ Charlie shrieked, as I let out a single, loud “HA”.  
  
“Well! I didn’t know you could repulse me even more than you’re already doing each and every day by merely breathing the same air as I am, and yet – here we are! The wonders of the world never cease to amaze me!”

The spider demon grinned woozily, turned around on his barstool and wrapped his own million arms around himself, wiggling around and making disgusting, moaning sounds.

“OooooOooooh, kiss me _Alllllllllll-ah-stor,_ yeah like that, _yeah,_ gimme that sweet, sweet PDA, _right in the middle of the fucking hallway in broad daylight where everybody can see us_. Yeah, fuck ‘em all, you sexy _beast,_ you! Now smite me – oh god, smite me _goooooood_ with your big, red—“

Charlie’s upset gasp was enough to shush Angel – and he was very fortunate it was, since I’m fairly sure I would’ve torn his lips clean off his pink visage had he continued his little peepshow. 

“W-wait – w-what does he mean?”

“He means what you think he means, Charlie.” Vaggie rolled her eye and shot an angry look in Angel’s direction. “Great job being subtle about it, Angel, you tactless _ass._ I thought we had agreed to shut up about it!”

“Yea I know, but I’m just sooooo _wasted_ right nowww,” Angel giggled. He tried to take another drink, but threw the rest of his glass’ contents right on the floor. 

“Aww, dammit.”

“Oh god,” Charlie in the meantime said. “You _all_ saw us. Oh _god.”_

“Yeah – and you sure as fuckin’ hell _went_ for it, didn’t you Alastor,” Husker added, giving me a nudge with a slight, teasing grin on his furry face. 

Seeing all those different faces staring at me like _that,_ while Charlie tried and failed to hide her burning face behind her hands, made me lose my ability to cynically snarl at all of them and/or laugh their claims away. Let’s keep in mind they all had seen us, so it was no use to try and deny it. I didn’t feel quite at _ease_ right now, to say the least.

And yes, because of that, it was extremely tempting for me to simply **exterminate every single one of these pests** , right here, right now.

However, Charlie’s employees and friends at the bar seemed… _supportive,_ for the most part. Their inquiring mugs annoyed me **greatly,** surely, yet… they didn’t show any signs of malice or mockery. 

They meant _well._

So I just sat still and stayed calm, allowing them to tease away.

Then, I suddenly hopped off my stool and walked over to Charlie’s, holding up a hand for her. She looked up from her own hands and eyed me questioningly.

“May I have a moment of your time to speak with you, my love – _privately?”_

“Yes,” Charlie said, right away. “Yes – _please.”_  
  
Ignoring the _thunderous_ laughter and roaring that was instantly triggered by my polite request, Charlie got off her barstool, grabbed the sleeve of my coat and pulled me with her, while I half-heartedly tried to understand why the whole lot of the sinners we left behind had burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You read that right - James and the Giant Peach, a children's book that I read when I was, like, 9 years old, actually was quite controversial!  
> The story's about a young boy who one day loses both of his parents in a pretty terrifying way and is then forced to move in with his two heartless aunts, who abuse and mistreat him. Then one day, after he has gotten some mysterious seeds from a strange man, a giant peach starts to grow in the garden - and James decided to crawl into it. It's the start of all kinds of wacky adventures James gets into. The story ends happily, too - but not for the two mean aunts.  
> Apparently, this book got a a lot of backlash because of the macabre and scary tone it has. Not really suitable for children, some people believed. Well I still read it as a kid and I didn't get traumatized at all. I actually thought the story was a bit boring...


	25. To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie drags Alastor off to her bedroom.  
> No - really.

As I dragged Alastor out of the main hall, just to get us as far away from the rest at Husk’s bar as possible, I was sure my entire, embarrassed face would catch on fire any minute now and just… _burn_ the rest of my body down with it.

They had _seen_ us this morning!

A _lot of people_ had seen us this morning, apparently!

Yeah well _of course they freaking_ had – it was like Angel said: we had been standing in the middle of a hallway, right around breakfast-time! Demons and sinners that stayed on the same floor as I _had_ to get past me and Al to get to the darn staircase that led downstairs and to the kitchen. 

Maybe some of them didn’t even dare to walk by in case they’d disturb us and just _sat there_ and _waited_ for us to _finish!_ Ohhhh my god.

Strangely enough, Al didn’t seem as bothered by the revelation as I had feared him to be. I even heard him chuckling as I kept on walking and pulling him further and further away from – well, anybody, really?

“My oh my. Did you hear them roar with laughter? Why was that? Was it because of the pet name?”

“No – you said _‘privately’,”_ I explained. “And that’s hilarious. Trust me on this one.”

He laughed, sounding both bewildered as amused. “What a _strange_ bunch of people!”

I pricked up my ears upon hearing that. I stopped walking, let go of him and turned around, looking at the Radio Demon with a pleasantly-surprised smile.

He adjusted his sleeve and tilted his head a bit. “Something on your mind, dear?”

“You called them people,” I pointed out.

“Did I now?” Al looked over his shoulder, as if he wanted to make sure those beings we had fled from were the same as the ones he had called people. “Curious. How very curious indeed.”

I chuckled and decided not to delve deeper into it. 

Al turned back to me and his grin softened. In fact, almost _everything_ in his face relaxed as he focused his attention on me, now that I got a good look at it. He looked outspokenly _kind._

“Well then, Charlie. Care to explain to me why you brought me here?”

I blinked and looked around me in wonder, only to discover right then and there that I had pretty much directed him _straight_ to my bedroom. Seriously – the door was already open and one of my feet was even standing right in it.  
  
“Oh,” I muttered. “Um, that just… happened.”

“How _forward_ you are!” he grinned.

“S-shut up, I didn’t do it on purpose,” I stammered, weakly slapping his arm. “A-anyway! You said you wanted to speak to me?”

“Ah! Yes yes, _that.”_ Alastor nodded. “Frankly, that was just an excuse to get you away from those loathsome sinners and have you for myself, for a little while.”

“You already have me for yourself though,” I heard myself blurt out – and then I made this weird little noise and tried to shield my face with my ever-so-reliable hair.

I peeked from beneath it when I heard no response and saw Al looking away and gripping his own face, flushing more than I had seen him do so before.

“Charlie, please – there are walls around us _everywhere_ – you make it frustratingly _difficult_ for me to keep on ignoring them.”

“The walls?” I confusedly said in a quiet voice.

“Never mind.” He breathed in and out slowly. “Right! Right. Ahem. Well. Now that we are at your bedroom, I take it that you’re about to turn in, aren’t you?”

After giving it some thought, I had to agree with him. It was true: before Al came to the bar in the main hall, I had been about to say good-night to the others. It was already past eleven o’clock already and I had to work tomorrow, as I needed to work pretty much every day, so… yeah.

“I am turning in,” I therefore nodded.

“Ah.” Alastor took one step closer to me. “If that’s so, my love, I’d like to ask you if it’s alright for me to kiss you good-night. May I?”

Most people – well, most _men,_ probably – would’ve already started to lean in at this point, supposing that their beloved would give in easier upon seeing their expectant face… but not Alastor. This was when I realized that he really had been profoundly upset about kissing me the other day, when I hadn’t been up for it but didn’t tell him. 

He didn’t move an inch and stared at me in an eerie way, most-likely feeling anxious about this whole situation.

I made things a whole lot easier for him by smiling and taking a step towards him as well. I put my hands on my back, tilted my face upwards, closed my eyes and puckered my lips in a (what I hoped) cutesy way. 

Al chortled at that, relieved, and he placed his hands on my shoulders to keep me in place as he gave me a chaste peck on the lips. I smiled into it when the kiss lingered quite some time, as if he didn’t want it to end, but I could feel he wasn’t going to – you know, _plunder_ my mouth as he had done this morning. That was okay, though. This was nice, too.

I opened my eyes again as Alastor pulled back, looking satisfied.

“Well then, my love, I wish you the sweetest of dreams. As for me, I think it’s time to go to bed as well—“

“Why not sleep with me, then?”

Screw it – it had been on my mind ever since I had led him here, and since it was just the two of us anyway (I knew for sure, I had checked this time, you better _believe_ I had checked) I decided to just ask it. To just… take the plunge.  
  
I made myself look right at him, trying to pay no attention to the fact my heart felt like it was in my mouth. Alastor did that weird, rigid thing again, when he’d get so terribly shocked because of a certain question or situation he’d just freeze right up. I could feel by the way his nails started to dig into my shoulders.

“You want me to sleep with you,” he repeated, his voice oddly tight.

 _“Literally_ sleep with me,” I added, trying to calm his mind. “Like… um, just lying next to me and sleep. Zzz. Like that, see? Not… _figuratively_ sleep with me.”

Good lord I sure hoped I used those terms correctly. 

“Aha.” Alastor said, indeed almost immediately relaxing again as he withdrew his hands.  
  
But I just couldn’t help myself.

“…although I…”  
  
Al narrowed his eyes. “Yes?”

“…wouldn’t exactly _mind_ if you’d…”

“…yes?”  
  
“…want to… you know…”

Oh my god I just couldn’t say it.

Alastor couldn’t say it, either, even though he very much knew what I was talking about – his face said it all, misleading grin and all. 

“Well now. I—“

“You don’t _have_ to,” I interrupted him. “Please keep in mind that I’m not putting you on the spot here, Al. I just want to be honest with you. I like you – _love_ you, even. And I feel comfortable enough with you to… tell you how I feel. That’s all.”

There, I had said it. I heaved a breath and fidgeted with my nails.

Alastor’s usual radio sounds buzzed through the otherwise silent air around us. I didn’t dare to say a word, and for a while, neither did he. 

Finally though, he spoke up.

“You intrigue me, Charlie. Your honest words, the sweetness of your very being, and yes – to an extent, even your body. Having that said, however, I’m not up to doing anything sexual with you as long as I can’t bring up the courage to try and be _sincere_ about these feelings.”  
  
I nodded. “I understand.”

“You _don’t,_ though.” Al shook his head. His smile faltered. 

“Charlie, dear – did I tell you I have tried _very hard_ to get you out of my system, yesterday night? That I was fed up with feeling what I feel for you? Did you know I had even _convinced_ myself I didn’t have any interest in you anymore this morning? That I was excitedly looking forward to telling you about this and watch you spiral down in despair right afterwards, in the hopes your unhappiness would entertain me? **Do you know just how much I absolutely wanted that to be true?** ”

A bit taken aback, I stammered: “You… hate being in love with me _that_ much?”

“No no. It’s more complicated than that.” Alastor ran a hand through his hair. “My dear, you should know by now just how much the uncertainty of love and romance haunts me. Whenever I’m having doubts, whenever I feel like it’s getting the better of me – I can barely stand it. It’s all new to me, Charlie. And it’s both the most horrible as the most wonderful thing that has probably happened to me.”

“But...” I frowned, looking at him. “When I met you this morning, you… um, to put it bluntly, you kissed me _so_ eagerly I almost _choked._ I… you held me so _tightly_ and felt so _nice_ and you… didn’t give me the _slightest_ impression you weren’t attracted to me anymore. At _all.”_

Al smiled sheepishly. “Ahem. I… thought I could manipulate myself out of having feelings for you. Then you showed up and stuffed all of those love-related, ignored emotions down my throat with such an unforgiving, harsh _force_ I couldn’t help but get swept right off my feet all over again – all because of that single thing you did.”

“What-what did I do, then?”

“Why, I told you just now, didn’t I?”  
  
Alastor gently caressed the side of my face, his hand cool, but not cold. 

“You showed up.”

  
**CcC**

  
Alastor seemed to be surprised my offer to sleep with me was still on the table after his little revealing speech about how he felt about (being in) love.

I explained to him that the fact he had willingly come clean with both himself and me about his worries concerning love and romance was more than enough reason for me to keep my offer valid.

So I told him once more: I’d love to spend the night with him – in a totally platonic way, of course. 

Um.

Okay, well, maybe not _totally_ platonic. I mean, there obviously were some romantic feelings involved, even if Alastor still was having trouble with being open about them. But hey, at least he had indirectly let me know he indeed was in love with me and for now, that was enough. 

He thought about it for a long time. So very long that I decided to… just go get ready for bed in the meantime. While he stood in the door opening, looking like he was searching for the answer of life’s greatest questions instead of simply agreeing to sleep next to me or not, I retreated myself into my bathroom, changed into some fresh pyjama’s (a two-piece set this time) and brushed my teeth.

While combing through my hair, I returned to the door, where Al still was having his quiet little internal crisis.

“And?” I asked.

“Alright then,” he said – and I almost dropped my brush at that, because I honestly hadn’t expected him to actually say yes to me in the end.  
  
“You sure?” I wanted to know, just to make sure. “You don’t _have_ to, you know.”

“Oh I know. I _know._ But I want to. I _absolutely_ want to, even.” He inhaled sharply. “Forgive me, dear, but I do need to – compose myself for a bit. You know how it is.”

I nodded and kept on brushing my hair, not saying anything. Sometimes, that was enough.  
  
Silently, I grabbed the front of his dress shirt and pulled him forward, making him take a few stiff steps into my room. Satisfied with that, I shut the door behind him afterwards, ignored the scandalized look he shot me and finished brushing my hair. Then I put my brush on the vanity and padded back to Alastor.

I gave him a patient smile and took one of his hands. “Just get changed in the bathroom, okay? I cleaned up just now, so it’s fine.”

Alastor resisted just a little bit when I started dragging him behind me, towards the bathroom, so I saw that as a good sign and continued: “Now, just take your time, okay? There’s no rush. Oh, and don’t be alarmed when you see me calling in bed: I try to call my parents before I go to sleep every night. You know, to let them know I’m doing well and to talk about how my day was.”  
  
I really, _really_ couldn’t place the face Al made after I had said that – and for a moment, I was convinced he’d spin around on his heels and get the heck out of my room as fast as he could. But he then went into the bathroom without a word, instantly shutting the door behind him, and well, honestly, that was better than I had expected, really? I mean, he was still _here,_ so that was _something._

Turning off all the lights except for the cute, pink lamps ones on my nightstands, I got into bed and nestled myself in-between the fluffy covers, pulling up my knees as I dialled my mother’s phone number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird' after seeing an episode of CrashCourse about the book. It made me curious - and therefore, I decided to read it! I liked it. The narrator, Scout, is a really interesting one.  
> So the story is about this girl, Scout, and the community she grows up with. There are a lot of racial issues where she lives and her dad, a very awesome lawyer with the very cool name Atticus, is doing the best he can to defend a black man against horrible charges he never actually did. The ending isn't exactly happy, nor unhappy. It's a bit neutral, I think...  
> This book was banned and challenged on sexual and racial grounds. It's a very well-known book and Gregory Peck, the actor who played Atticus in the movie remake, was made into a star thanks to Lee's book.


	26. The Picture of Dorian Gray (Oscar Wilde)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Alastor spend the night together.  
> Again - really.

Just like ninety percent of all the other times I called my mother, she didn’t pick up and I was sent to her voicemail straight away.

“Hi mom,” I started, suppressing a disappointed sigh, “it’s me again. Hello! How are you doing? I really hope you’re fine. It’s… been quite a while since the last time we spoke to one another.”

The bathroom door opened and I pretended to be too caught up in the one-sided phone conversation to notice Al: I didn’t even look at him but studied my covers as he made his way into the room. 

“I’m doing okay, by the way. Things at the hotel are going fine! Everybody’s having some sort of reading assignment these days. They’ll have to have finished 50 pages before tomorrow evening. It’s like school all over again!”

My heart fluttered a bit when I felt the mattress dip as Alastor got into bed as well. I glanced over to the side – and almost burst out laughing when I saw just how helplessly confused he looked, sitting there, with a very straight back and not knowing what to do with his hands.

What a surreal situation this was. 

But maybe I could make it less weird. 

“I’m still reading _Pride and Prejudice_ myself, by the way.” I reached out to my nightstand and pulled something from the drawers. “It’s a pretty romantic book. I’m not sure if _you’d_ like it, but dad would. You know how much of a cry-baby he is when watching romantic movies, right? Maybe he’s like that with romantic books as well.”

I – very awkwardly – scooched over to Alastor’s side, who was now staring at me like a huge, red, cautious… cat. I dropped some comics on the covers over his lap and then adjusted myself until I laid on my back.

“Speaking of dad, how’s his rash doing? I still can’t believe he just went and sprinkled himself with holy water, just to win that bet… on the other hand, he still won, right? I’m sure that eases his pain a bit. However, I’d still keep an eye on him, if I were you. You know how he is.”  
  
Talking about eyes – from the corner of my eye, I observed Al as discretely as I was able to. He had been randomly flipping through a comic book at first, but now, he was actually reading something. I could tell. After all, I had seen him read. I knew what he looked like when he _really_ read. He seemed to relax, even if it was just a little bit. His shoulders weren’t as tense as they were before.

Somewhat set at ease at that, I decided to end the call. 

“We should meet up again soon, mom. I kind of miss you. Maybe I should visit you and dad. Is… that an idea? Well, anyway, I think that’s all for now. Can you let me know if it’s alright for me to come home, next weekend? Or the weekend after? Okay – that’s all for now. Oh, I already said that – sorry, heh… Good night, mom. I love you. Say hi to dad from me.”  
  
I hang up and sat up, staring at the screen. Mom most of the time did text me back after she had missed a call from me, but it could take a few hours or, in the worst case, even _days_ before she’d reach out to me. I understood, though. She was a busy woman, just like dad was a busy man. They had their own lives to worry about and I bet they were happy I was doing fine on my own.  
  
Because I was. Obviously.

“Are you alright, dear?” Alastor suddenly asked – and I almost yelped: I had forgotten he was still sitting in the same bed as me!

“Yeah!” I nervously grinned at him and pushed my hair out of my face, leaning into the pillows behind me. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Hm-hm,” he only said to that.  
  
A moment of silence fell in between us, in which I scrolled through my phone’s photo album and Alastor kept reading the comics I gave him.

“I just wish my mom would… pick up the phone more often.”

“Don’t think too badly of her, dear. Let’s not forget that your mother is a very dutiful demoness! She probably doesn’t have time for idle chatter.”

“I guess.” I looked at an old picture of me and my parents, taken by Vaggie on my birthday a few months ago. The three of us looked happy and carefree, even while I did remember dad nagging at me all day for carrying on with my redemption hotel and my mom questioning my sanity for accepting Alastor’s support. They meant well, but they just didn’t understand… or _cared,_ really. 

“These magazines of cartoons are quite nice, by the bye,” Alastor said, once more distracting me from my glum thoughts concerning my parents. I turned to my side to look at him and saw him jabbing a long, sharp finger into the thin pages in front of him. “That duck’s downfall in almost every little comic strip is simply _hilarious._ Everything he touches, breaks into pieces! His whole life is a pile of misery! How _delightful!”_

“That’s Donald Duck – you don’t know Donald Duck?” I asked – and then immediately realized that Donald Duck was created _after_ Alastor’s death. He wouldn’t know the character. In fact, I wasn’t sure Alastor actually knew what comics, _real_ comics, even _were._ Were there even any comics around when he was still alive, or was it just the funnies in the newspaper he’d read every now and then?

In any case, he seemed very pleased with them and kept talking about them excitedly. I snickered to myself: there you have it, I knew he was a geeky nerd all along. A _murderous_ geeky nerd, yes – but still a geeky nerd.

“They’re pretty cool, huh?” I commented. “They’re Vaggie’s.”

Alastor laughed dryly and _instantly_ shoved the pile of comics off of him, as if the thin magazines had magically changed into atomic bombs.  
  
“Oopsy daisy, and _there_ they go! What a shame, haha!”  
  
I gasped. “Hey, don’t _hurl_ them to the floor like that! I still need to return them to her!”

“Maybe I should ritually burn them then.”

“Wha – don’t _burn_ them!”

He watched me frown at him and grinned broadly. “Well, it’s not a smile, but at least you’re no longer looking like a sad, kicked kitten. Good enough, I’ll say!”

I blinked. “What?”

He shook his head and hand-waved his own remark away.

“It's nothing, my dear. More importantly… what’s next, hmm?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s next’?” I asked, while gripping the covers of my bedsheets as I snuggled underneath them.

He didn’t say anything, but gestured to me, to himself, to the bed, all with big, grandiose waves of his arms.

I smiled. Then I raised my shoulders a bit, trying to shrug. “Now we go to _sleep,_ Al.”

“Aha. Of course we are.”

“Just settle down, alright? I’ll turn off the lights.” I groaned. “Aww, and just when I was rolled up all nice and warm in here…”

“Well then just stay put, my dear, and allow _me.”_  
  
Alastor didn’t do anything else after that – except for ominously grinning, of course – but his _shadow_ did spring into action, briefly severing its connection with his owner to crawl over the walls, sheets and _me_ to turn off the two lamps on my nightstands, next to the bed. Darkness fell into my bedroom like a heavy, black curtain and I suddenly felt just how tired I was from this day. It had been a good day, for sure – but man had it been a hectic one.

As I yawned, I heard Alastor finally laying down as well – the covers on his side of the bed rustled and the mattress moved a bit. When I heard him in- and exhale a deep breath, I couldn’t help but ask what was on my mind. 

“Are you a snorer, Al?”

Oh my _god_ Charlie.

He chuckled. “Well aren’t you a _riot,_ dear! You’re sharing the bed with a mass murderer who’s killed _multiple_ people in their sleep, quite _brutally_ so, and all you’re worried about is whether or not I might _snore?”_

“Sorry. It just crossed my mind,” I muttered, feeling _rightfully_ ashamed.

“No, Charlie. I don’t snore.”

“Ah! Nice.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t, but…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe I should’ve told you before inviting you in,” I said, saying what I was thinking, really, “but, uhm, I’m not a very… _still_ sleeper. I move around a lot.”

Again, he chuckled. “Oh dear.”

“Like, it doesn’t even matter if there’s someone in the bed with me or not – I always tend to wiggle around and try to dominate the entire bed. You know. Hogging all the covers and somehow ending up in diagonal position, with all the sheets on the floor and curled up into the cover of the mattress, having ruined the whole bedding…”

He actually had to laugh now. “Quite the restless sleeper, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” I let out a snort. “I’ve accidentally kicked Vaggie out of the bed at least five times.”

“You _kicked_ her out of the bed? _Astounding!_ I wish I could have seen that.”

“No no no no,” I sputtered, “not, like, _literally_ kicked her out of the bed… more like, um, rolled against her so hard she was just… um, _bumped_ out of it.”

“Well now, my dear, by now I know better than to underestimate you and your many hidden powers and talents, but I doubt I would let you ‘bump’ me out of your bed that easily.”

“Maybe not,” I said – although Alastor physically _really_ wasn’t all that impressive, with his lean, almost skinny body, “but you’ll still be bothered by my active way of sleeping. Unless you’re a heavy sleeper. Are you a heavy sleeper?”

“Charlie, my darling, I’m lucky if I get any sleep at _all.”_

“Oh.” I twiddled my thumbs underneath the bedsheets. “Well this night ought to be interesting, then…”

“Yes.” He sighed, exasperated. “Ah, well. It can’t be helped now, can it?”

That surprised me. “You… still want to stay here?”

“But of _course,_ my love! Going back on my word would be rude. Besides, it’s not much of a problem. Why, like I said, I almost get no sleep anyway, so what’s another night of insufferable insomnia? At least I get to suffer through it with you!”

He cackled at that, but it lacked the usual malice and energy. My heart sank when I realized Al was just as, if not even _more_ fatigued than I was. Keeping in mind he had wasted last night on trying to fall out of love with me and having this major ‘oh-shit-I’m-really-not-getting-out-of-this-love-thing-so-easily’-revelation the very next day, _plus_ the fact he had spent the night before last night on making binders and preparing the reading assignments for all of the hotel’s sinners, I came to the conclusion that those eternal grey bags under Al’s eyes weren’t a weird fashion fad. 

No. He was _exhausted._ God knows for how _long_ he had been.

I bit my lower lip. Now I understood a bit better why he had been having doubts about sleeping with me or not: if he did, his chances of getting any sleep would decrease even _more._ But he still agreed to do it anyway. And look at where we were now. 

I felt terrible and thought long and hard, searching for a possible solution. There _had_ to be a way to sleep with Al without keeping him up all night because of my unruly limbs.

And there was, actually.

I started sliding into Alastor’s direction a bit more.

“Uhm… Al?”

“Yes, my dear?” he said.

“There might be a way to stop me from moving too much.”

He laughed. “Now don’t suggest anything drastic, Charlie! It really is quite alright! I’m used to sleepless nights!”

“This isn’t exactly drastic, I think. I’m not sure you like it, though.” I paused for a bit to take a deep breath. Alright – fast and painless, like pulling off a band-aid. “Icouldlikeholdyou?”

“Ho ho! I didn’t catch _any_ of that, I’m afraid.”

“ _Hold you_ ,” I repeated, louder than was necessary, and so I instinctively cringed at that. “I mean, I could… hold you. Um. I… toss and turn not as much as usual… as long as I’m holding on to… somebody.”

“I see,” was all Al said to that. It didn’t sound strained, shocked, amused or disgusted – he only sounded tired. Just so _tired._ Maybe he didn’t mind being more honest about just how worn out he was now that the lights were out and we couldn’t see one another. I wondered if he even was still _smiling_ now. 

“Is that okay with you?” I wanted to know. “I mean, do you mind me holding on to you? You’re no fan of people touching you, so…um. I thought I’d better ask, first.”

“That’s indeed very polite of you, my love. I appreciate that. But in all sincerity, you should know better by now.”  
  
I heard his hand patting the bed over and over, searching for me. I squeezed my eyes as I tried to locate his hand, but then it landed on my forehead with a bland _smack_ – and Alastor wasted no time in grabbing my upper arm and pulling me over to his side. I flushed heavily when my face was pushed against his chest, his arms wrapped around my neck.

“Do hold me, Charlie.”

“Awwight,” I mumbled against the fabric of his pyjama vest, and wound my arms around his torso. He nuzzled the top of my head, humming contently. 

“You always have the loveliest scent, my dear. You smell like freshly-made beds.”

I managed to free my face somewhat – then the side of it was instantly pressed against his chest, again. I could both feel and hear his heartbeat, becoming strangely aware of the fact that underneath his powerful, creepy deer/demon/overlord-combo exterior, Alastor was still nothing more than a mere, deceased human. 

Way more vulnerable than I was. 

“M-my bed is made every morning,” I said, my voice sounding like I was about to cry. _“That’s_ what you’re smelling. It’s nothing special.”

“To me it is.”

I held on to him tighter. “W-well okay then.”

I heard him chuckle drowsily. “This is nice, my love…”

“Y-yes.”

“Very nice indeed… yes… sweet dreams, Charlie…”

“Good night, Al.” I swallowed some very confusing tears and gently rubbed his back, before closing my eyes with a soft, weary sigh. “I love you.”

He mumbled something back. Something that ended with ‘too’. 

Abruptly, my eyes snapped open again and I looked up with a gasp, trying to catch even the slightest glimpse of his face – but then I felt the calm heaving of his chest and his steady way of breathing. His arms lost their strength as well. 

He had fallen asleep. _Of course_ he had.

Slightly annoyed, but wearing a huge, overjoyed grin on my face nonetheless, I snuggled myself against him some more.

I found myself thinking he smelled a lot like rain and autumn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never read 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', even though I was supposed to while following my studies. Uhm. Whoops?  
> I AM planning to read it, though - just like all those other books I still need to read. I read something about it on internet, though!  
> The book starts with a young and beautiful man named Dorian Gray, whose portrait is being painted. This is observed by a man named Lord Henry Wotton, who tells him about his wonderful and hedonistic world. Dorian gets captivated by the man's words and begins to believe that beauty and looking for pleasure in life are the only things worth striving for. Naturally, this path he chooses to walk is a very hard and thorny one - and of course, things don't end very well for poor Dorian.  
> Wilde was a very controversial man, being homosexual in the 1880s-1890s and all - and this book was the only novel he wrote. It was censored heavily before it even was published for the very first time and even then, many reviewers still found the book offensive. Wilde defended his work, as any decent writer would, but he still changed some of the original material. Apparently, there are many different versions of the book nowadays. I wonder which one is the best?


	27. Ulysses (James Joyce)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaggie does some research - and indirectly discovers Charlie has a library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I know quite a lot about the many benefits of reading fiction, I _did_ use a very handy site to help me out with this chapter. So if you'd like to know more about the many benefits of reading fiction, check out this article, written by [Justin Brown](https://ideapod.com/15-incredible-benefits-reading-read-every-day/).

_“Did you know?_

_You may not enjoy reading all that much, but if you are one of the numerous people who don’t read regularly, you’re missing out on a whole lot of truly amazing benefits that reading brings with it._

_For starters, according to several researches, people who like to keep their brain active by, say, reading a book, are 2.5 times less likely to develop Alzheimer’s disease or dementia. By staying mentally alert, you can slow down the process of Alzheimer’s – or you can possibly prevent it altogether._

_Furthermore, an university found out that if you read even a mere six pages a day, the act of reading can reduce your stress levels by up to 68 percent. In other words, reading a good work of fiction and losing yourself into it, can decrease your stress levels._

_Also – and this shouldn’t be a surprise to anybody – reading a lot of books will greatly improve your general knowledge. So the more you read, the more basic knowledge you’ll get to handle life’s many challenges. And don’t forget about your vocabulary: by reading, you’ll be certain to improve the way you can put your thoughts and feelings into words.”_

Yeah yeah yeah…

I boorishly scrolled through the webpage, my face leaning on my hand as I saw the many benefits of reading books pass my eye. I should get out of bed soon, but I didn’t feel like it yet… so I just lingered in-between the cosy covers of my bed just a little bit longer as I stared at the flickering screen of my laptop.

Let’s see here… 

Reading apparently also greatly improved one’s writings skills, analytical skills, one’s memory and concentration… it made falling asleep easier, it made you better at conversations, it’s a work-out for your brain, a cheap form of entertainment…

Well, sure. I got it – reading was good for you and yeah, I was more than a little impressed by seeing all these advantages reading had for a normal human being. It almost made me feel _accomplished_ and even _self-important_ : I had always read a lot after all, even if it hadn’t always been out of my own free will. I liked to escape from my own horrible life and hide away in a fictional world that either was way worse than my own, or a whole lot better, more magical.

It’s one of the tools I happily used and misused to my own benefit – until my death, that is. I don’t remember reading another book after I had come here in Hell. Perhaps that was because books were pretty rare down here. At least, that seemed to be the case.

I was glad when somebody had placed that binder in front of my bedroom door. I was elated, even. Then I read the note, found out who had put the binder there, and I had almost want to throw the whole damn thing out of the window. Alastor – that sick son of a bitch – what was he trying to do _this_ time, fucking scheming around like this? And, what, he threatened to _kill_ me if I didn’t read 50 pages by Friday?

Fine! 

I’d _show_ that asshole!

I’d fucking read _all_ of it and then blow him away with my knowledge about _The Handmaid’s Tale_!

He thought I was like the other sinners here, didn’t he – just another suffering idiot, somebody who didn’t bother to read literature and expand their own horizons. Just stupid, temperamental Vaggie, who obviously didn’t have anything other to say for herself except the occasional Spanish insult. Just a stereotypical, feisty girl. 

Heh. 

Just you wait, you red shitlord – I’ll show you just what I’m made of. You may have taken the only chance I had to mend things with Charlie away from me, but you’ll sure as hell won’t take away my pride and dignity, dammit! I wouldn’t allow it!

So today, Friday – the day Alastor would come by and creepily examine every single sinner in the hotel – I’d fucking catch him by surprise by exposing and ridiculing his dumb reading assignment plan _right_ in his smug face. He’d be pissed off about it, sure – but since that jackass probably didn’t want to get on Charlie’s bad side, now that he was happily messing around with her, I’d be fine. Probably. Whatever – like I really _cared._ I wasn’t afraid of that jerk anyway.

I had been up ever since six in the morning to try and find as many reasons as possible why reading literature would have a positive effect on a person. It wasn’t all that hard – the aforementioned benefits were collectively named as the main reasons why we all should fucking flush our technology right down the toilet and pick up a good book instead.

Still, I hadn’t seen any advantage of reading that really stood out yet. Something that really baffled me. Something Alastor knew it could be beneficial for Charlie – and therefore for the sinners of the hotel…

Wait a minute – this article right here… yeah, maybe this was it:

_“Reading can actually make you a better person. It’s no lie: by reading about the life and times of others, who live/lived in different circumstances from you and/or have/had vastly different outlooks on life than you, it’s easier for you to understand and relate to these ‘strangers’. You’ll start to empathize with them. Books can have that effect on you – they can have the power to change your mind and outlook on the world and its inhabitants completely.”_

Huh.

_“And don’t forget about inner tranquillity! Depending on the subject you read about, reading a good book will bring you an immense amount of inner peace and tranquillity. For example, self-help books or books in which the characters or story make you feel like you are properly represented, can lower your blood pressure and assist people dealing with mood disorders.”_

Hm.

_“Finally, when people around you are reading, you are more likely to do so yourself – and by encouraging people to read more often, you’re actively helping them to expand their minds.”_

Interesting.

Was _this_ what Alastor tried to do? 

He forced us to read, so that we’d get more empathy, more inner peace and we’d start doing it more often?

Oh my god. That was so farfetched it was almost cute.

You _can’t_ make people better people by making them so something they wouldn’t want to do otherwise! Like, I saw it when I was still in high school: teachers would tell us to read all the books on this huge list and while some of us (read: me) did indeed try to obediently read all that boring literature, most of the students just went to Google straight away and read swift summaries and ‘deep’ analyses of a book a day before the test – and they’d do well on it, too! While not having read even a single damn _word!_

I shook my head, groaned and shut my laptop. It was pathetic. I didn’t think Alastor would be so fucking naïve, believing he could better the hotel by letting people read against their will – but it seemed like that was just the case. Idealistic moron.

Maybe he and Charlie were a better match than I had initially thought.

Smiling grimly at that, I finally got out of bed. Time to get dressed.

  
**VvV**

  
Work had been slow the past couple of days. Every single sinner was struggling through the binders Alastor had forced upon them, after all – and especially now, on this last day, with the deadline panting in their exposed necks, many of the hotel’s current residents were too busy reading and making notes about what they had read to do… anything else, really.

You wouldn’t believe just how quiet and clean it had been around this place. Nobody caused trouble, there were no fights or complaints – they’d all just sit on their spot, on a cushion, couch, chair or even just on the ground, and they’d read. I walked around and gave them some refreshments and something to nibble on every now and then. I felt more like a waiter than anything else, really – I even wore an apron.  
  
There wasn’t much administrational work to do either, for some reason. Well that was neat – I really hated doing administrational work. 

I was bored, though. I had finished my own 50 pages long before the other sinners had even finished a single chapter. The binder had ended things just when Offred had started meeting up with the Commander outside of the ‘Ceremony’, and I was wondering what they were up to – and then, all of a sudden, there was just… gibberish. Random Latin words you’d also see in resume-drafts on Microsoft Word.

My literary experience had been brutally cut short like that – and what made matters even worse, was that it had been an experience I had been dying to be engrossed with for fucking _years._

Meanwhile, Angel Dust still wasn’t finished with his own binder. I almost felt jealous.

He was in the kitchen again today – apparently, he had made that his reading domain. I didn’t really care – I was glad he was actually behaving himself somewhat. I didn’t even think he had somebody with him last night, or the night before.

 _“'Course_ not," Angel scoffed, when I sat down and asked him about it. _"Nobody’s_ up for a nice, quick fuck, not as long as they haven’t finished Alastor’s stupid reading assignment!”

“You hate it that much?” I looked down at his binder. His book was titled _Kiss of the Spider Woman_. It seemed a pretty good fit with him. Still, I was surprised to see he actually was at page 43.

Angel Dust, of all sinners! Already at _page 43_! 

He sat up arrogantly and ran a hand through his white, poofy hair. “Eh, it’s alright, actually. I don’t mind reading it. I can relate to this Molina-guy, ye see.”

Recalling the internet page I had visited a bit earlier, I automatically leaned closer to the lewd spider-man. “You can relate to him?”

“Sure. He’s gay, I’m gay. He’s kinda twisted, I’m kinda twisted. He’s willing to go through hell and back for this guy he’s in love with, even though he knows the feeling isn’t mutual, and I… well, I can’t say I really relate to _that,_ but when I read about his actions and feelings and shit… I can kinda understand?” He ran over the pages of the book with one of his free hands’ fingers. “Reading books is kinda nerdy, but hey, since everybody around me is reading, I actually don’t mind trying to really get into the story, ya know? I wanna know how it ends.” 

In my mind, an imaginary Alastor was cackling loudly and mockingly at me as he crossed off all three most-important benefits of reading on a just as imaginary list. For some reason, an imaginary Charlie was there as well, clapping and cheering him on. Goddammit. 

_You win this round, shitface._

I folded my arms, frowning.

“You _can’t_ find out how it ends, remember? I told you yesterday: after page 50, there’s only nonsense.”

“Oh yea.” Angel looked up from the book and made a face. “Dammit. I _hate_ cliff-hangers. Well in that case, I’ll just go look up the book in Charlie’s library. Problem solved!”

That caught my attention. In an impulse, I grabbed Angel by the arm. 

“Wait – Charlie’s _what?”_

“Library – and don’t you go randomly touching me, ya filthy _casual,”_ Angel said and plucked my hand off him with an over-the-top haughty face – only to grin and wink at me right after. “Naaah, just pullin’ yer leg here, toots! You can touch me! Touch away! Come on – you _know_ ya want to.”

“Charlie has a _library?”_ I said, ignoring his wiggling eyebrows.

Angel shrugged. “Um, yes? You didn’t know? According to Niffty, it’s on the fourth floor, behind a pair of very heavy wooden doors. She goes there to dust off the books and furniture almost every day, especially now that there are two regular visitors making use of the place.”

“Two… oh,” I said.

Angel Dust nodded, watching my face carefully with an expression that was a weird mix of malicious joy and genuine concern. 

“Al and Charlie’s secret hideout, yes.”

“She has a library,” I muttered, staring down at my hands. “And they use it in their spare time. Of course. _That_ explains her sudden interest in books, Alastor’s reading assignment and the fact they’ve become so much closer for the last few weeks. Dammit – I feel so fucking stupid now. And you _knew?”_

Angel smiled. “Eh… wish I could take all the credits for that discovery, but again, I only knew because Niffty told me, really. The other day, I simply asked her if she had any idea where Alastor and Charlie were heading off to during every break, and then she told me they go to this hidden library to read. And make out. A _lot.”_

I brusquely stood up and took a look at the clock on the wall of the kitchen. It was half past ten – still too early for Charlie and Alastor’s break time. This was my chance.

“What are ya up to?” Angel Dust’s already pale face grew even less colorful. “Whoa, whoa… you’re not gonna do what I _think_ you’re gonna do, are ya?”

“I want to know how my book ends,” I explained to him. “I bet I can find the original work of Atwood in Charlie’s library, right?”

“Yea, probably, but – Vags, girlfriend – last time I checked, you didn’t have a damn _death wish_ , did ya? ‘Cause lemme tell you, Alastor’s _not_ gonna be happy if you interrupt his and Charlie’s quality snogging time. He’ll cut your throat!” Angel even made the image more lively by slowly moving _several_ of his hands’ pointy fingers across his neck. 

“No he won’t,” I sighed, tossing my long hair behind me and placing my hands on my hips. “As long as he’s all over Charlie, I think I can get away with a _lot_ of stuff. She’s my best friend, in case you forgot – and Charlie won’t like it if Alastor harms her best friend. Besides, they’re not there right now: I know for a fact Charlie’s working in our office and she told me Alastor’s in her bedroom, preparing for the examinations this evening.”

Angel gasped. “He’s in _her_ bedroom?”

I rolled my eye. “Yes, Angel. _Her_ bedroom. She kind of let it slip out when I asked.”

“You mean they…? Last night?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Oh Vaggie.”

“Oh shut up. I’m fine.”

Angel Dust tried to think of something (comforting?) to say, but to my satisfaction, he wasn’t able to. He did study my face for a bit, before giving me a rare, admirable grin.

“Yea you are, toots.” 

“Exactly.” I said, keeping my head up high. “I’ll go and check whether or not your book’s around, too, okay?”

“Famous last words,” Angel solemnly said – and I smirked at that.

“We’ll see about _that.”_

Then I walked out of the kitchen, with sure, firm steps. There was nothing holding me back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very intelligent literature teacher of mine once told my class that there's not a single book like 'Ulysses' around on this planet and that anybody who starts to read it should be prepared for the most insane LSD-like book-trip ever.  
> Thanks to that, I never dared to read it. I did find it in the library a few years ago, though, and I even tried to read some pages of it, but man I just couldn't carry on with it - I had to put it back.  
> Because of my teacher's words, I'm not allowing myself to look on the internet just what the book is about. I kind of like his version the best, so let's keep it that way. Also, now that I'm older, I am willing to give it another try… someday. XD  
> I did look up why this book was so controversial, though: apparently, it was banned on sexual grounds and around 500 copies of the book were even burned by the United Stated Postal Service!


	28. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaggie has a great time reading in Charlie's library… until Alastor and Charlie suddenly come in.

Okay… almost there…

Even though there was _nothing_ I did _wrong_ by going up to the fourth floor, I couldn’t help but looking back over my shoulder every now and then as I slowly ascended the many flights of stairs. I never went this far up the hotel before… I had always thought there would be nothing but junk and dusty, ignored, antique objects up around here. 

Who would’ve thought there would be an actual _library_ hidden here instead? 

I shuddered and continued walking. The farther I went up, the more my surroundings seemed to _scream_ at me I didn’t belong there. Putting all of my brash bragging earlier aside, I actually didn’t feel all that courageous at all right now. The only thing that kept me from turning around and getting the hell back to where I had come from, was my feverish curiosity to get to know the rest of my book’s story.

I had to know. I just _had_ to know, creepy atmosphere be damned!

One could imagine my immense relief when I finally reached the big, sturdy wooden doors Angel Dust had described to me. I let out a shaky breath and wiped my forehead, that was, to some extend, sweaty and clammy from the tension of it all. Then I took the door handle and quietly pushed my weight against the door, opening it.

Behind the wooden doors, I found a big, spacious chamber, filled with bookcases. There was also a large window with beautiful, stained glass. Its shape seemed to resemble an apple – heh, I should have known. How fitting for a family that had sin and giving in to forbidden desires as their calling card. Charlie probably loved that window. It made the light that came in seem almost magical.

There were also several couches, fauteuils and cosy chairs scattered around, all accompanied with little cabinets that had old, yet sophisticated lamps standing on top of them. Lots of cushions and pillows to rest on, too.

I closed the door behind me and wandered around the room in amazed bewilderment.

Wow.

This place really _was_ just like a library. Everything around me invited me – no, _seduced_ me to just pick a book out one of the many, colourful rows of literature, settle down in a comfy chair, relax and get lost in another, _better_ dimension. This room was escapism in its finest, most purest form and I suddenly felt a bit betrayed by Charlie, since she had hidden this away from me for weeks.

That wasn’t exactly fair of me – I knew she had wanted to tell me about this place earlier, but I had refused to hear her out back then. 

But still.

This _room._ This _library._

I whole-heartedly wished she had told me about it.  
  


**VvV  
  
**

After roaming around the chamber for a little while, my eye darting all over the place because I simply didn’t know what to look at, what to _take in_ next, I finally got used to the room and its studious ambience. 

I also took notice of a posh chaise longue – a long couch – with two books neatly resting on its seating. _Pride and Prejudice_ and _Wuthering Heights_. I carefully approached it and with every step I took, it actually felt like I was about to cross an invisible, sacred line I _really_ shouldn’t. 

Thankfully, I all of a sudden stopped dead in my tracks, glaring at the couch and everything that was part of it. 

Well, looks like I had found Charlie and Alastor’s little love nest. God knows what they had been doing on it in the past few weeks. It made my mouth shrivel up in mild disdain. 

Additionally – _Wuthering Heights_ , Alastor? _Really?_ Jesus.

I rolled my eye and snorted in a condescending way, then forgot about the chaise longue and decided to look for _The Handmaid’s Tale_.

And it was baffling, really: I managed to find the book in this sea of literature in less than five minutes, almost as if I just happened to walk to the _right_ bookcase, put my finger on the _right_ row of books with the _right_ writer of the _right_ book. My mouth was slightly agape when I easily located Atwood’s most successful and well-known work, just like that, and I pulled it out of its papery confines. It was an old, worn book; its spine’s color was slightly faded over time. 

My heart leaped in gleeful excitement as I looked at the – original! – work and I smiled broadly. Nice going, Vagatha! 

I wrapped my arms around the book and then, I hesitated about what to do next.

In all fairness, I _should_ try and find Angel’s book, take it and then take my leave. It still wasn’t noon yet, but it probably would be the best, wisest thing to do, just in case either Charlie or Alastor came in here earlier than expected.

But then again…

My binder really had left me feeling _very_ frustrated, when it suddenly ended, just like that, on page 50. 

Besides, reading just one more chapter – just _one more chapter…_ shouldn’t be too big of a deal. I was a fast reader, I could do that and _then_ leave, right?

_Right?_

Right!

Having convinced myself, I went to the nearest, most comfy-looking chair, plopped down on it and snuggled into the cushions, before opening up the book and continue reading where I had been forced to quit a few days ago. Finally, I would find out what Offred was going to do with the Commander. And oh my sweet dear _god_ I would enjoy every second of it.

  
**VvV**

  
The best part about reading interesting books is the way you tend to forget everything around you, like the bad things in your life. You’re too absorbed to pay any attention to it, so you just forget about it, even if it’s just for a little bit.

The worst part about reading interesting books is the way you tend to forget about everything around you… like the fact that I was supposed to fucking _leave_ the library before noon, and not simply sit there, reading the ever-loving crap out of a book, until the _single two people_ I definitely _didn’t_ want to meet here came wandering _riiiiight_ into the damn room.

Only when I heard sudden voices coming from just outside the library, I knew shit was about to gruesomely hit the fan. My nails dug into the book’s cover in quiet panic as the doors of the library were opened. I still held up some false hope up to that point that it _weren’t_ Charlie and Alastor entering the chamber, but somebody else – it wasn’t impossible, this library may have been well-hidden, but who knows, anything could happe—

“Well that was very nice,” Alastor’s words echoed through the entire library, smashing my poor hopes and dreams to a pulp while I made myself as small as possible. “How kind of you to wait for me in front of the library, my dear!”

My fear of being discovered was temporarily forgotten when I noticed something… off. Well, no, maybe ‘off’ wasn’t the right word… I mean, there was just something _different_ with the way Alastor spoke right now. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but… his voice sounded _kinder,_ somehow. _Happier?_

Charlie’s light, vibrant laughter made the air in the big, yet still confined space even more breathe- and bearable.

“Of _course_ I waited for you! I told you this morning that I would. You, um... liked it? Me, waiting for you?”

Alastor chuckled – a sincerely pleased, maybe even _timid_ sound it was. “Yes. I liked it.”

Charlie said something I couldn’t hear. After that, Alastor asked her in an uncharacteristically soft voice “May I?”, to which Charlie gently, most carefully responded “Yes you may”. Then there was a silence.  
  
Always the voyeuristic daredevil, I couldn’t help myself but peep from behind the couch’s seat with my one good eye. There was enough I could see from this angle – and yeah, those two people that had entered the room were most certainly Alastor and Charlie. I could vaguely make out Charlie’s shape – that part that wasn’t blocked by Alastor’s back, slightly bent towards her. Charlie stood on her toes and her hands held on to the hem of Alastor’s coat, while he himself seemed to caress her face as he kissed her.

I’m not going to lie, it hurt a little bit to see Charlie getting kissed by somebody else than me. Still, it was just a little bit, to my surprise. I was thankful the pang wasn’t, you know, _agonizing,_ or _slowly tearing me apart_ or something like that – yet another sign it probably had been for the best the two of us had split up. It just felt really weird and bizarre to see someone I didn’t like at all make out with someone I _did_ like.

Like mixing water and oil. Know what I mean? It just looked… like it shouldn’t be possible.

But that was _before_ Alastor pulled back. The second he did so, I finally got a good view on Charlie’s face – and _fuck_ if she didn’t look up at the Radio Douchebag as if the guy was worth a million dollars. It had been a long while since the last time I had caught Charlie looking so ridiculously smitten at _me,_ her cheeks red and lively, her eyes shining with joy and shameless warmth, her entire existence _beaming_ just how insanely _happy_ she was about being with him – being with Alastor, who still petted her face. Not with those razor-sharp fingers of his, but with the back of his hand.

As if he didn’t even wanted to _risk_ accidentally hurting her.

I didn’t get to see Alastor’s face, not even when Charlie took his hand from her blooming features and started to pull him towards the chaise longue, but dammit, _that_ simple, kind gesture was the most obvious sign of a clear change in his attitude.

Intrigued by this overtly-cutesy display of clear mutual affection, I kept staring at them. I was very lucky to have taken _this_ particular couch as my reading spot slash safe haven, because I was pretty sure I’d have been found out by them in every other single seating in the library. Heh – what a strange coincidence.

Charlie and Alastor kept on babbling about Alastor’s later book examinations, how Charlie wished to help him out with that, and about which one of the works of literature he had forced upon the other sinners in the hotel he had liked reading the most. It was a bubbly, cheerful conversation that lasted a few minutes, as the two of them made themselves comfortable on the long couch and took up their respectable books.  
  
Then, the chatter gradually grew less, until they weren’t talking at all anymore, but just… read. 

Charlie had snuggled close to him, sure, and they even held hands in a way that was so _natural,_ so _logical_ that it all but _shouted_ they had done that many times before. 

But that’s it, really.

I found myself blinking confusedly, barely able to keep on breathing slowly and steadily, since it had gotten _so damn quiet_ in the room you could hear a needle drop.

When Charlie and I had just started going out, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Especially Charlie, who _really_ loved and craved all kinds of physical closeness – with a mother like the seductive succubus Lilith, what else had I expected? Hell, during our relationship, I actually had to outright _tell her_ to _please cut it out_ a few times: no matter how adorable and innocent Charlie looked like and how easily flustered she got from sexual innuendo, the woman could be literally _insatiable_ if you got her going. 

She’d _pounce_ on you. She’d get excited enough to simply ignore your wishes and just fucking _go for it_ , no matter what. She never went over the line with me, thankfully, but I sometimes wondered how any of her ex-lovers had managed to handle her.

But now she was (more or less) dating Alastor, I didn’t feel any… dangerously sexual vibes coming from her.  
  
Maybe it was because of his sexuality. I had told Angel Dust earlier that Alastor’s preferences – or lack thereof – didn’t have to stand in the way of a healthy and sexual relationship between the two of them, but maybe it affected them _otherwise._ Maybe Charlie knew she had to be careful not to make Alastor fear the idea of ever having sex with her. Maybe the absolute need to be – and I can’t believe I was thinking this – _gentle_ with Alastor, the asexual, most-likely _virginal_ mass-murderer, helped her enjoy the simpler things in a relationship more intensely.  
  
But for how long? How long, before Charlie would be fed-up with that?

It was at that moment that I suddenly realized Charlie _didn’t_ have sex with him last night. 

  
**VvV**

  
But yeah, _anyway._

All of that was fine and dandy, and yay, how wonderful to have been able to observe a drastic change in both demons cuddling up on that chaise longue’s demeanor, whooptee-fucking-doo, but that sure didn’t mean I was out of trouble now. 

I was still stuck on this couch, bent in this painful, tucked-in position, my book now poking in my back. And I wasn’t able to get out of this dire situation – not as long as Charlie and Alastor were still sitting there, reading all silently like that. This was an old couch I was sitting on and I was scared to death it would squeak if I tried getting off of it and make a run for it. Charlie would just be shocked to find out I had been half-unwittingly spying on her and her creepy-ass almost-boyfriend, but Alastor, although he probably wouldn’t kill me, _would_ fucking _torment_ me till the end of time. 

I didn’t want _that_ to happen, so there was nothing I could do but sit still and hope the hour would pass as quickly as possible.

And ironically enough, even while I was stuck in a library and had the book in my possession I had been wanting to read for _years,_ I couldn’t even _read_ to kill the time.

Karma’s a bitch, huh? 

  
**VvV**   
  


_Finally,_ after six thousand years and three hundred eternities had passed (or at least it felt like that), I heard Charlie groan – and I peeked from behind the couch again. Charlie was sitting up, stretching her arms. Her book laid next to her.

“I got to page 111 today, Al,” Charlie told Alastor, who closed his own book and got up from the couch. “Almost there. How do you feel about that?”

He grinned and took her hand, pulling her off the chaise longue with a swift, elegant tug. “Honestly? I’m proud of you, my dear. You’ve gotten so much better at reading! It’s astonishing!”

“Thank you!” Charlie’s cheeks blossomed with flattered glee.

“However, although I understand the main reason why you’re reading so fast,” Alastor continued, as they strolled back to the library’s entrance, “I do wonder whether or not you actually truly _enjoy_ the story. Aren’t you rushing it?”

Charlie smiled and shook her head. “I’m not rushing it, Al – trust me. I’m making sure to read every bit of information I get up to this point as thoroughly as possible.”

‘Why is that, pray tell?”

“Because,” Charlie started, her eyes turned downwards as she shyly fumbled with some strands of her blonde hair, “it’s important to you, right? I – really want to do a good job… getting your message. I’ll make sure to do my best to understand every single bit of it – to understand every single bit of you, what you want me to know… about you.”

Alastor suddenly stopped walking and seemed to shiver a bit. “Good gracious, Charlie.”

“What?”

“Hearing you say such insufferable sweet things… it makes me want to kiss you again.”

“Then you should.”

“Well alright then – come here you delightful thing, you.”

Hearing my ex-girlfriend’s excited giggling getting smothered and turned into soft pants by her new suitor’s repeated kisses wasn’t exactly the most _wonderful_ sound I had ever come to know, so I fought off the desire to moan in frustration and just – put my hands on my ears, screwing my eye shut tightly as I decided to now just wait till the two of them had left the room already.

It sure worked, because when I finally opened my eye again, the two of them were gone. I even looked around me real quick, just to be sure, and yep: I couldn’t see nor hear them anymore.

Furthermore, the only things that revealed they had been there at all, were their slightly misplaced books on the now empty chaise longue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kite Runner was a fantastic book to read. Realistic, raw, rough and one of a kind, really.  
> The book's narrator is Amir, who's a fairly rich boy, and Hassan, the son of his father's servant. The two boys are good friends and they often go off to play and fly kites - one of the things many kids are doing to escape the harsh reality of the world in which they are growing up. Then something truly heinous happens to Hassan - and it's partly Amir's fault. Eventually we keep on following Amir as he grows older, still living with the guilt of all the bad things that happened (to Hassan) in his childhood. It might seem like some sort of coming of age story, which it kind of is, but ohhhh boy - that last part. Damn that last part. I'm not going to spoil it - just go read the book for yourself!  
> This book was one of the most-challenged books of 2008 because of its 'offensive' language, sexually explicit content and (probably) because it had something to do with religion.


	29. Het Achterhuis / The Diary of a Young Girl (Anne Frank)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie accompanies Alastor when he puts all the hotel's sinners to the test. Have they been reading?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, you should check out the art [Chisena](https://twitter.com/ChisenaArt) made, based on chapter 10!  
> Here's the [link](https://twitter.com/ChisenaArt/status/1226268361253801984)!

I originally had some big, **horrible** plans in mind, about what to do with the foolish sinners who were suicidal enough to go and _fail_ the book test I had _painstakingly_ prepared for each and every one of them.

Pushing them in a fiery hellhole filled with snakes, hot, boiling lava and their past life’s biggest fears, making them stay there for at least a months or so, heavily traumatizing them in the process, for example. Or adjusting my internal radio _just so_ that they wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink in the next few weeks, because they’d be driven to absolute madness thanks to my downright _harrowing_ white noise. Or just a nice and easy, clean ripping-off of a few random limbs, facial features or even a tooth or six, making them bleed everywhere with wounds that wouldn’t heal for days…

But, alas. 

Charlie _insisted_ on assisting me with the examinations, even helping me out with how to review and evaluate the sinners based on some well thought-out criteria, and…

Well. It’s no use to try and be secretive about it: there was no way in Heaven or Hell I was going to brutalize a pesky nitwit that had obviously never held a book in their hands before as long as Charlie was standing next to me, holding that adorable clipboard she had brought along with her, with all of the sinners’ names written on it in pastel-colored ink. 

She _would_ punish them, though. 

For instance, when we were questioning a certain Mr. Duffer – who really was called Mr. Duffer… 

“Aw. I’m sorry, Mr. Duffer, but I’m afraid you haven’t studied enough for this test,” Charlie said, tapping her pencil on the paper on her clipboard. “Tssk tssk! I’m afraid you’ll get a penalty for that!”

“Oh,” the froglike sinner said, watching me nervously with his six green-yellowish orbs and shaking like a leaf, as I simply stood there, glowing ominously behind Charlie’s back and narrowing my eyes at the idiot.

“Yep yep. And your punishment will be…” Charlie suddenly pointed the back of her pencil at him, frowning sternly. “…doing the breakfast dishes for a _whole week_ , starting tomorrow! _That_ will teach you to slack off like that, mister! Um, Duffer!”

Good golly _gosh_ – I would have gone for a good belly laugh at the silliness of it all, hadn’t Charlie looked so overly-dramatically _serious_ and _precious,_ pressing her lips together like that. But instead, I just gazed at her like the enamored fool I was, agreeing with everything she said and wondering yet again how it was even _possible_ for someone as good-hearted, as open-minded and as downright _nice_ as Charlie was to be skipping around in Hell like this.

Surely she didn’t deserve Heaven. She deserved _more._

“Oooh,” I then heard the sinner say, clearly holding back a relieved snicker, “washing the dishes, huh? Heh. Is that all?”

I instantly cracked my neck back into Duffer’s direction and widened my grin, tugging up the corners of my mouth and revealing even more sharp teeth to him. Foreboding red, flickering symbols and black clouds started to circle around the man, and he let out a startled gasp.

I chortled. “Why, Mr. Duffer, if I didn’t know better, I would almost think you _don’t mind_ Ms. Magne’s punishment all that much! In that case, maybe you’d rather prefer one of **mine?”**

“No,” the amphibian demon whispered, shrinking right on the spot, “I… I _do_ mind Ms. Magne’s punishment… p-please don’t hurt me, I’ll – I’ll do a good job at cleaning the dishes – I’ll even use the _good_ brand!”

_“Atta_ boy!” I crudely slapped my microphone on his filthy head a few times. “There there!”

Charlie looked at all of this with a slightly disapproving frown, but she didn’t say anything about it and simply crossed out Duffer’s name on her clipboard. Afterwards, she gently took hold of a few fingers of mine, squeezing them.  
  
“Alright Alastor, let’s go to the next room, okay? Thanks for your time, Mr. Duffer!”

Ah, but Charlie wasn’t stupid. She _knew_ what had happened with the frogman if she hadn’t been here with me, so she wasn’t going to criticize my belittling of the lowlife demons. Instead, she rewarded my patience and decision to not-kill them by giving me little smiles and touches, and in all fairness, I didn’t even try to deny how much I loved those tiny gestures of affection. 

So I obediently followed her around, holding her hand and humming contently with the fact I was now spending almost the entire evening with her – and like this, we worked through all of the sinners’ rooms and book tests. 

Well.

_Almost_ all of them.

  
**AaA  
  
**

  
Vaggie was one of the final sinners Charlie and I ‘officially’ had to quiz about her book as well, but I didn’t quite see the point of doing that.

I knew she had wanted to read the binder I had prepared for her, I knew she had finished the 50 pages within a few hours on the first day and I knew she was rightfully annoyed with me for not giving her the entire book. If I was going to question her about _The Handmaid’s Tale_ , she would, without a doubt, know the answer to _every single question_ and maybe it was a mere feeling, but I somehow suspected that she’d also be able to answer questions about parts of the book that she _couldn’t_ have known. 

Besides, even _if_ Vaggie didn’t manage to successfully answer my questions, I wasn’t allowed to hurt and/or threaten her in any way, if I wanted to be romantically involved with Charlie. So… well, I honestly wanted to skip Vaggie altogether. It would be a petty, yet original way of acting the goat, just to pester her – since she would probably be waiting for us to show up, and then we _wouldn’t,_ and then she’d _fume,_ and my oh my, yes, I was going to do _just that_!

And thus, when Charlie and I approached Vaggie’s bedroom, I was about to suggest to her to not bother Vaggie and just carry on to the next and last room. But then her weird, rectangular phone-device started ringing. 

“Oh – excuse me, Al,” Charlie said, taking the thing out of her back pocket. I saw her eyes light up in excitement as she looked at the screen.

“It’s mom – _mom’s_ calling me, Al!”

“How delightful, my dear!” I smiled, endeared by her enthusiasm. “You better answer it, then!”

“You sure?” She hesitated, looking from me to her phone to Vaggie’s door in turns. 

I chuckled, rolling with my eyes. “Don’t worry, Charlie dear – I won’t go on without you. Yes? Now, answer your mother, darling. You never know what she might have to tell you.”

That was all Charlie apparently needed, because she shot me a thankful smile and promised me to return to me as soon as the conversation with Lilith had ended – and then she picked up the call, happily walking away from me to talk to her mother in private.

I fully supported that decision of hers, by the bye. Moms had the right to get all of your attention, I believed. It was the least you should give to them when interacting with them.

I was planning to simply stand there in the middle of the hallway as creepily as I could, just _because_ I could, and wait for the beautiful Princess of Hell to return to me. It was always such a pleasure to see one of the most worthwhile creatures Hell had to offer come at me with such a joyful, rosy face. It made me want to sweep her off her feet and cherish her like the living and breathing jewel she was and also I did wonder what she looked like if she’d approach me like that, with that beautiful body of hers, without any clothes hindering it. 

Oh.

Oh my.

That was new.

I confusedly blinked with my eyes a few times.

Did I want to see Charlie naked? 

Well, not _per se_ , no.

But thinking about what the look on her face would be if she’d undress herself for me, slowly revealing more and more of her porcelain-like skin, only for me to see, only for me to touch and appreciate…

It was only for a short moment, but my heart picked up its pace and I could feel hot blood raising up to my face.

Dear _lord._

“What are _you_ getting all embarrassed about on your own,” I suddenly heard a slightly monotonous, irritated female voice – and when I snapped out of it and looked at the side, I saw Vaggie, standing in her doorway, leaning against the doorpost with crossed arms and a sceptical look in her single, lonely eye. 

Furthermore, that were quite some ugly pyjama’s.

“Well!” I laughed, immediately putting on my well-known mask again, and walked towards her. “If it isn’t our dear Vagatha! How are you, my dear?”

“Don’t call me _Vagatha_ – it sounds gross when _you_ say it.” Vaggie even shuddered to prove her point. “And don’t ‘my dear’ me, either. You don’t like me anyway.”

“That’s nonsense, my dear. I happen to like you a whole lot! Why, there barely are any brave yet stupid sinners like you left, who dare to talk back to me and tell me what and what not to do. I find that dangerous way of living down here in Hell very amusing! And I like amusing people – so I like _you!”_

Vaggie groaned, already fed-up with me. “Yeah, _whatever._ Anyway. What are you doing here in the hallway all by yourself? Weren’t you going to interrogate all the sinners with Charlie?”

I tilted my head at that. “Yes – but how do _you_ know that? I don’t remember telling you or anybody else about my change of plans.”

It could have been my imagination, but it seemed like Vaggie reddened at that, like a child that had got caught stealing something, and she turned her face away. “I just took a lucky guess. You and her are pretty much glued together these days anyway, so I just figured she’d tag along with you.”

She was lying. I knew, saw and felt she was lying. But I didn’t feel like making her spill the beans and grinned at her menacingly. 

“You poor thing – it must be quite difficult for you to watch your former lover wander around with me all the time! I can’t imagine the horrific _pains_ you must be going through right now!”

Anticlimactically, Vaggie shrugged at that and looked straight me again. “Actually, I’m alright now.”

I felt my smile waver a bit. “Are you, now.”

Vaggie, noticing the disappointed tone in my voice, smirked at that. “Yes. Surprised? Alastor, you seem to think Charlie and I broke up because of you – but don’t go fucking flattering yourself too much. We just didn’t feel the same sort of love for one another anymore – _that’s_ why we split up. Charlie hadn’t fallen for you yet when we ended things, so don’t act all arrogant like you’re the big bad wolf here when all I’ve been seeing you do for the past days is acting like an awkward, love-struck baby deer that doesn’t know what to do with his feelings.” 

I stared at her icily. “Why I ought to jab your remaining eye out with my little finger for that ruthless comment alone, you bratty little **wench.”**

“You won’t,” Vaggie said. She suddenly sounded unsure and her prior confident composure was weakening by the passing second, but I had to give her kudos for the way she refused to back off or look away. “Oh, and by the way, I know.”

For a split-second, I feared she referred to my impure thoughts about Charlie a little while ago and I actually had to swallow.

“Know what, Vaggie dear?” 

“I know why you’ve made everybody read books.” Vaggie’s voice was shaking a bit. “I’ve done some research. Not that it was all that hard to find out, by the way, but still. You hope to make the hotel’s sinners better people by making them experience the many benefits reading has, right?”

Now it was my turn to shrug dismissively at that. “Who knows?”

“ _I_ know,” Vaggie nagged.

“Is that so?” I approached her a bit more, until my shadow loomed over her. “Well, since you’re such a clever girl, you probably must know the reasoning behind the 50 page limit per binder as well then, don’t you?”

Vaggie finally took a few steps back. “I – I don’t.”

I kept creeping closer to her, slowly but surely hounding her against a wall of her own bedroom. “Also, do you _honestly_ believe I’m so naïve as to believe I can redeem every damned sinner in this hotel with just a single book? With just 50 pages of a single book, even?”

“I – no, well, I thought you—”

“You thought _wrong,_ Vaggie!” I smacked my hands to the wall, right next to the moth girl’s grey, unattractive face, and looked down at her with a scoff. “So let’s make a deal, shall we? _You_ stop sticking your meddling nose into things where it doesn’t belong, and _I_ won’t ask you **where the hell you got that book from**.”

Without looking away from her, I nodded to the side. I had seen the piece of literature resting on her nightstand. I had recognized the faded colors of its spine. **That book wasn’t hers.**

Vaggie was trembling now and finally, there was something resembling fear flickering in her enlarged eye. 

I was satisfied at this point. Without even touching the moth demoness, I had put Vaggie back into her place, reminded her of who she was messing with, and now that she was terrified enough to pass out on the spot, I distanced myself from her again.

“Well then!” I beamed a happy, toothy grin at her again as I snatched the book from her nightstand. “This was a _wonderful_ intermezzo! _Very_ informative. We should do this again sometimes, don’t you agree, my dear Vagatha?”  
  
Vaggie shot a look at me so full of pure hate and anger, it almost _tickled_ me. It was a nice look on her.

“No matter how big of a murderous piece of shit you are, she’ll still destroy you,” she then said.

I gave her a questioning smile. “Who, dear?”

“Charlie may go easy on you now, since you’re an asexual who’s never been with anybody before, but in time, she _will_ destroy you.” Vaggie took in a deep breathe. To my genuine surprise, she looked _somber._ “And I don’t even feel good about it, because hurting somebody she loves will tear her apart. Also, you’re the only fucking powerful asshole down here who is willing to help her. Once she has chased you away – _then_ what? What will become of us – of Charlie’s dream? Of _her?”_

Vaggie then actually broke down into tears and slumped down onto the ground.

Absolutely baffled and more than a bit spooked, I stared at her. She didn’t cry cute, like Charlie did. Vaggie’s tears were just wet, and hopeless, and filled with a kind of despair I didn’t recognize. She bawled out loud, like a wild animal, and it caught me off guard. 

What was she talking about all of a sudden? Had she lost her mind?

Unsure _why_ exactly, I found myself walking back to her and snapped in my fingers, making one of her own blankets float towards the two of us. As I harshly rubbed Vaggie’s face with my sleeve, ignoring the bewildered glare she gave me, I tried to calm her down a bit.

“Now, I’m not sure _why_ you seem so devastated about Charlie’s ability to effortlessly destroy me – and yes, I _do_ know she has that power. She’s no normal demoness, after all. But I’m not a normal demon, either. I won’t be chased away that easily. Do have a little bit of faith in me, regardless of how… misplaced that sounds right now.”

_“Fuck_ you,” she hiccupped, and I just snickered at that, wrapping her up in her blanket. 

“That’s more like it, my dear!”

“Al?” I then heard Charlie call out for me in the hallway – and I abruptly shot up. 

“Yes, Charlie?”

“Where are you – hey, are you in Vaggie’s room? I thought you would wait for me!”

I wanted to answer her – even though I didn’t know _what_ to answer her, especially not when I was standing around here with her sniffling ex-girlfriend crouched down on the floor – but before I could think of something, Charlie already entered the bedroom. I could practically see the big, bright smile melting off her face as she got a good look on Vaggie, who was now struggling to stand up. Then Vaggie grabbed the fabric of my clothes to help her get upright – and I automatically grabbed her arm, pulling her up.

“Vaggie,” Charlie stammered, coming towards us with worrying eyes, “my god, what-what’s wrong? You’re crying! W-why are you crying? Did he… Al, d-did you…?”

Charlie now looked at me.

I understood why she would think the things she was currently undoubtedly thinking. I opened my mouth, ready to tell her some sort of excuse in order to try and explain all of this, even if I didn’t know myself what exactly was going on – but Vaggie started to talk before I could.

“I’m _not_ crying because of Alastor, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She wiped her nose and tugged on her blanket. “Like I’d _cry_ because of that douchebag. I’d rather fucking _die.”_

“Now, now,” I heard myself say.

“What? It’s true.” 

Charlie’s relief was _tangible_ – I could see how much that little assurance of Vaggie eased her mind. She focused back on Vaggie again and put her arm around her, gently patting her shoulder.

“I don’t get it… Why are... no, _were_ you crying then, Vag?”

“I saw a puppy getting run over out of the window,” Vaggie said, her voice completely devoid of any emotions, which made it almost comical – especially when she flatly pointed to one of her windows. “It was a very sad thing that made me very sad.”

Charlie gave her a suspicious look. “Uhm… yeah, cleary.”

Vaggie sighed. “Also, I’m on my period.”

“Ahhhh,” Charlie said, _immediately_ buying it now, and nodded. “Of _course.”_

Vaggie just rolled her eye. I shook my head in mild, confused amusement. Women are odd.

“Alastor just happened to hear me sob from out of the room and came to check on me.” Vaggie moved a hand over the blanket covering her. “Look. He made a sushi-roll out of me.” 

Charlie smiled at me, amazed and surprised and gorgeous and everything else. “You did, Al?”

“Why I _sure_ did,” I said. “What is a sushi-roll?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this book isn't a work of fiction. Sadly enough, the diary and the things that are described in it are very real. However, at a certain point, Anne tells the reader of her diary that she wishes to make a fictional book based on the happenings she described in her diary, once the war is over and everything. So I decided to use it as a chapter title anyway.  
> The book Anne wrote is nothing more than the diary of a teenage Jewish girl who happily lived in Amsterdam - until the war started and she and her family were forced to hide away from the rest of the world. In her diary, Anne describes her day to day live, her struggles with herself, her family and the other people living in 'het achterhuis' (the secret annex). Bit by bit, she starts growing up and even falls in love. It's all pretty nice and bittersweet. And then the diary suddenly ends.  
> This book was censored heavily, apparently, because Anne wrote about her sexual fantasies - fantasies that involved women as well. Her father, the sole survivor of the secret annex-group, found this a bit too much and removed these passages. Recently, the pages were recovered and the book was published again, now with all the pages.  
> Then the book prompty got banned in a few schools and organisations because of it's sexual content. It's almost kind of funny, really.


	30. The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the reading assignments are a thing of the past, Charlie wonders if they even made a difference. Alastor talks about a "next stage" of his plan.

When I woke up early in the morning the next day, I couldn’t stop myself from studying Al’s sleeping figure up close. The night before, he had agreed once again to stay with me for the night – and now that I had woken up way before my alarm started buzzing, I bet I could call myself one of the very few people who had ever watched Alastor sleep.

Not counting that time I had found him napping in the library, by the way. I was talking about watching him sleep in an actual _bed._

Alastor slept like a mummy, I discovered.

No no – not like a mom. I meant a literal _mummy._ You know – the Egyptian kind. He laid in bed very neatly, as straight as an arrow, with the both of his hands saintly (oh my god I can’t believe I used the word _saint_ while describing _Al_ of all people) folded together, on top of the covers.

He’d go to sleep like that, stay like that for the rest of the night, and then woke up like that. 

You know what, scratch the word mummy – he actually just looked like a dead person, really... 

I furrowed my brows and scooched a bit closer towards him, making sure to avoid stirring around too much: Alastor was an _extremely_ light sleeper. When he had stayed over the night before, he had told me the next morning he had slept much better, since he had only woken up seven times before sunrise.

 _Seven times_! That shocked me!

However, Alastor kept telling me that it was alright: if I had slept by himself, he might have had woken up more than _twelve_ times in one single night. He had kept track of it one night, since there was nothing he could do about it otherwise, he had told me – and this huge number was the outcome. 

“So in other words, I slept remarkably well,” he had said, sounding content, and so I chose to believe him. 

Now that I had woken up before him (he had been the first to wake up the other day), instead of getting out of bed or closing my eyes to snooze just a little bit more, I wanted to quietly observe Al in his most vulnerable state. I had been holding on to him just before I fell asleep last night, but I must have let go of him at a certain point, since he now laid in this… creepy, disturbing fashion. 

I pushed myself up from the mattress just a little bit, to try and look at his face. Was it still grinning? Would there be an eternal smile, pulling on his lips? I’d like to see him frown, even if it was just once. At the same time, the prospect of maybe seeing Al frown one day made my skin crawl for some reason.

Still, I wanted to know: was he smiling right now, or…? 

Swallowing some sort of nervous lump down my throat, I slowly crept towards him some more, until I was party awkwardly hovering above him, trying to get a decent view of his face.

Just when I noticed that yes, he was indeed still smiling, Alastor didn’t even give me the _chance_ to hastily retreat, since his eyes suddenly _**snapped open**_ in the most upsetting way I had seen in a very long time, and seeing those crimson, gleaming eyes leer at me like that startled me _so much_ I actually lost my balance and came crashing down on his upper body.

“Oh my god,” I stammered while Al started to laugh, and I propped my chin up on his chest. “That legitimately _scared_ me, you big _jerk!”_

“Ha! Serves you right, my dear,” he said – and shit, his voice didn’t even _sound_ sleepy, he must have been awake for a while already! “You shouldn’t stare at sleeping people. That’s universally known to be _very_ impolite!”

He put his hands on my back, like in a very loose embrace, and I relaxed somewhat.

“Yeah, well – you sleep creepily,” I countered.

“I most _certainly_ do,” Alastor simply agreed, “why, you haven’t even seen my regular sleeping position yet!”

“What _is_ your regular sleeping position, then?”

“Standing upright in the corner of a room with my eyes wide open, enlightening the entire room around me and everything in it with a gentle, scarlet light.”

“Holy crap.” I shivered. _“Jesus,_ Al! Why would you _ever_ sleep like that?”

“Well. I don’t get much sleep, like I told you before.” Al patted my tangled bed-hair. “Why bother getting into a bed if I know beforehand I won’t get that much sleep anyway? Good heavens, in that case, I rather just _put myself on stand-by, if you catch my drift_!”

I chuckled at the lame pun, just like his easily amused radio audience. “Al, I think even the curtains caught your drift.”

“Well bless your intelligent curtains then!” Alastor gave my head a few more strokes, before all of a sudden sitting upright – hop, just like that. I very inelegantly slid off of him, barely processing what he was even doing.

“But anyway! A new day has arrived, I see! Why, would you just _look_ at that hellish sun! Time to rise and shine, Charlie!”

I made a face as I watched him get out of bed and stroll off to the bathroom right away. 

“You’re getting out of bed already? Aww. It’s still very early, you know? Don’t you want to stay in bed a little bit longer and—”

 _Slam_ – that was the bathroom door.

“…talk,” I finished, sighing.

Then the door suddenly opened again and Alastor stuck his head out of the room. 

_“Talk,_ you say?”

“Yes,” I jumped. 

“About what, pray tell?”

I put a pillow on my lap and started dragging my finger over it. “I don’t know, just… talk? About us, about… things, about… you know, stuff… lovers talk about…?”

Al stared at me blankly for a moment.

“One moment, my dear,”

 _Slam_ – the door shut again and I huffed, getting out of bed as well to try and make my bed, as good as I could. I didn’t make my own bed all that often, but since Razzle and Dazzle were still at my parents’ place, I now had to do it. I didn’t mind it all that much, though – it was good for me to get out of my comfort zone and do things normal women my age would and could do…

All of a sudden, two red arms were wrapped around my waist from behind, out of nowhere – and I froze on the spot when Alastor – because of _course_ it was him – pressed his face into my hair. I also felt his heartbeat _frantically_ banging against his chest and therefore against my back. 

“A-Al?” I stuttered, getting red because his hands were actually laying _directly_ on naked skin: my pants had sagged a bit, making him touch my bare flesh – and therefore making this situation _way_ more intimate than it was meant to be.   
  
“You insinuated we are lovers,” Al muttered.

“Y-yes,” I admitted, trembling when his hands – unknowingly?? Very much knowingly?? I didn’t know! – caressed my tummy. “I mean… aren’t we? Or… shouldn’t I have said that?”

“Charlie, you can call us whatever you want us to be.”

“T-then I will call us lovers,” I declared. “And you will call us lovers, too. Eventually.”

A soft, impressed laugh was getting muffled in my hair. Al’s hug tightened his arms around me just a little bit more. “My darling, you’re so brash and to-the-point – I like that about you. It’s so very _entertaining.”_

Judging from the way Alastor’s hands didn’t get more adventurous, I concluded that he, curiously enough, _wasn’t_ aware he was touching my actual skin. I hesitated for a while, but then I carefully started to turn around in his arms, until I was facing him again. I smiled up at him and gently put my hands on his waist as well, pulling him against me with a soft tug.

“Hey, Al?” I said, while he – after some silent encouragement from me – placed his forehead against mine.  
  
“Yes, my love?”

“Your hands are on my butt.”

I felt him _solidifying_ in horror and his eyes widened. I had half-heartedly thought he’d let go of me like he just burned himself, really. But then I actually felt him _pat my butt._ Just like that.

“Oh. So that’s your bottom?” 

“All the rumors are true,” I sternly confirmed – and he snickered at that.

“I’m no expert, but I do believe that’s a very charming bottom. Most _lovely.”_

“I – wow. That’s probably the most respectful compliment my butt has ever gotten,” I smiled, flattered, and raised my face to peck him on the lips. “Thanks, Alastor! I’m glad you, um, know to appreciate my behind.”

He grinned and took my chin in one of his hands, keeping my face where it was and making it turn bright red. “Oh no no no. Don’t thank me. You make everything such a bizarre, wonderful experience, my love. So… may I thoroughly thank _you_ for that, Charlie dear?”

I firmly gripped the back of his coat and gulped, excitedly pressing myself flush against him. “I-I’m always up for some positive feedback.”

While Alastor bowed down, impatiently guided my face towards his and made my heart flutter and my mouth sore and bruised as he kissed me with everything he got – which was a _lot,_ and kind of sharp, and hard, and lovingly, all at the same time – I happened to notice he didn’t remove the hand that still lay on my butt.

He didn’t _do_ anything with it – but it remained there, for as long as our feverish make-out session lasted, and for some reason, that soothed me.

I didn’t know why.

It just was really, really comforting.  
  


  
**CcC**

  
  
Well – the book assignments were a thing of the past now.

From the fifty sinners Al and I had examined, only twenty-one of them had managed to actually pass his test, of which ten just _barely._ Amazingly enough, Angel Dust and Niffty had been two of the five people who had actually passed the test without wrongly answering even a _single_ question! Vaggie wasn’t even interrogated about the book she had read _at all,_ because she would, as Alastor had put it, make a fool out of him and all of his silly questions with her ‘sharp wit’ and ‘disgusting dedication’ to the story he had picked out for her.

I had remarked he was technically complimenting her.

Al had remarked that if I would let Vaggie know that, he’d never praise my butt again.

Hehe.

Anyway, now that all of that was over, things were slowly but surely changing back the way they were, before Alastor had tormented everybody in the hotel with his weird reading assignment. Maybe some sinners had indeed calmed down a bit more, and there weren’t as many things getting broken, stolen or otherwise unjustly used, and yeah, _some_ residents were actually trying to find out where they could read the rest of the binders they had been saddled with, but other than that?

I… actually didn’t see that much of a difference.

There was still a lot of trouble taking going around in the hotel – on a daily basis, even.

There still were frequent fights when I wasn’t paying attention.

Vaggie and I still had to work our butts off to get even the simplest things done.

Angel Dust was still kind of a bastard, just like Husk was still kind of a drunkard, and just like Niffty was still a compulsively-cleaning little nutcase.

And even though Alastor’s attitude towards me and even some of the other co-workers had drastically improved, I didn’t see him treat the other sinners of the hotel with that same kind of respect. I mean, they still were scared to death of him, and of course, Al, being Al, found that very entertaining. 

Also, he hadn’t spent the night with me last night, or the night before that. That kind of sucked.

To be honest, I felt kind of disappointed. Not in Al, mind you – no, he had done the best he could, really, and he had put a whole lot of effort in this book-plan of his. I guess I just felt disappointed in… the way I had apparently overestimated the motivation of the hotel’s sinners to try and do something _worthwhile,_ instead of continuing down their own, destructive paths that would lead them to their ultimate demise. If anything, I felt ashamed. As if the sinners, and therefore I, had let Alastor down.

So when I met up with him in the library a few days after the book examination, I told him I was sorry.

Alastor put aside _Wuthering Heights_ (unbelievable, he was almost through with it already!) and glanced down at me with a slightly confused smile.

“My dear, I already told you I’m perfectly fine with your pretty head laying down on my lap like this – even if you _did_ decide to take that dusty old pillow of yours to rest on top of. Why, it’s almost as if I can’t win.”

“Your legs are _bony,”_ I pointed out as I looked up at him and put my own book down on my chest. _“That’s_ why I put my pillow on top of you. And also, I can’t believe you’re jealous of a _pillow._ You’re a grown man, Alastor!”

“You stay out of it, my dear. This is a fierce dispute between me and that pink abnormality of yours.”

I chuckled and reached out a hand to his face, tapping it for no other reason than the fact that I could.

“Seriously though – I’m sorry, Al. You had thought up this great… book scheme, and now that all of that is over and done with, nothing’s changed.”

Alastor took my hand and intertwined his own fingers with mine. “You think it is a failure?”

“Well, I mean…” I started, frowning. “It’s not like anything has really changed now, has it?”

“No, but what if I told you, my dear, that my plan’s still in progress?”

“It is?”

Alastor nodded and explained, his voice enthusiastic and full of vigor. “Yes, most certainly! I’ve been working on the plan a lot for the past couple of days. Starting tomorrow, I think I will be able to get this plan of mine to the next, critical stage! How _exciting!”_

“Oh, so _that’s_ why you didn’t want to sleep over.” I let out an appeased sigh. “You were busy. Alright.”

“I apologize for still being so very cryptic about my plan, my love – but I like to think that _that_ will only make the outcome of my plan more satisfying for _you_ – and therefore, more satisfying for _me.”_ He slightly leaned his face down. “Were you worried I had lost interest, Charlie dear? In _you?”_

I flushed and tried to avoid his gaze. “No, but… I thought I had… I don’t know… scared you?” 

He tilted my face back towards his again. “Are you perhaps referring to the backside-touching from a few days ago?”

“Y-yeah.”

“My dear, didn’t I tell you I _liked_ touching your tush?”

“Oh my _god,”_ I half-shrieked, half-giggled, embarrassed to death. “Don’t call it my _tush!”_

Alastor grinned, but then got a lot more pensive look on his face. I could tell from the way his smile lessened and his fingers gently caressed my cheeks. He must have some sort of fixation on my cheeks, really. He sure liked touching them.

“I appreciate your patience with me, my dear. You’re cautious and mindful and always think of my needs, first. A truly compassionate thing to do. Like I told you before, you make everything a wonderful experience – so don’t hesitate to put me on the spot every now and then and make me try something new. I’ll let you know when it doesn’t pique my interests.”

I silently looked at him.

He noticed the thoughtful expression and now poked my cheek. “What is it, dear?”

“I’ll gladly try new things with you,” I softly said, “but I’ll _never_ put you on the spot.”

“I… well. I… um. That’s… well. Indeed.” 

Alastor did his best, I could tell he did, but he wasn’t able to come up with a remark that was smooth and cunningly enough to make me think he wasn’t secretly relieved to hear those words from me. His hands went back to stroking and petting my face, his touches surprisingly tender and careful.

I smiled, took his face in my hands and quietly pulled it close to my own. He stared at me, then his eyes fixated themselves on my lips.

“Charlie, I—”

“You may kiss me, yes.”

I tilted my face upwards as he leaned down some more. The kiss was simple and chaste, and that was more than enough right now. When he pulled back, I felt bold enough to chase his mouth with my hand and wipe my lipstick from his lips.

“By the way, I’m at page 160, Al.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat and blinked a few times to try and snap out of his somewhat dazed state. “I happened to notice.”

“Is that okay?”

Alastor nodded slowly. Then he snatched my hand again and kissed the back of it. 

Satisfied, I wanted to pick up my book again and continue reading – but then Al spoke up again.

“By the bye, Charlie, I will need your library in the next stage of my plan.”

Intrigued, I raised my eyebrows at him. “The library? You mean _this_ library?”

“Heavens _no,_ dear, I mean one of the many other secret libraries you have hidden in this hotel of yours.”

“Uhm…” 

“Of _course_ I mean _this_ library!” 

Al now was completely recovered from his momentary trance of earlier and his smile grew significantly bigger, getting wide and pointy. He was getting all fired-up already.

“Um, why?” I wanted to know.

He chuckled. “You’ll see tomorrow, my dear, because I’ll require your lovely presence as well!”

“Wait – you need _me,_ too?”

“Naturally! You’re _essential_ to my absolutely magnificent scheme! My secret weapon! So…” He bent down and placed a kiss on my forehead. “…may I count on your assistance, my love?”

Smiling sheepishly as I rubbed the spot he kissed, I nodded. “Yeah, o-okay…”

Alastor seemed happy and he gave me some more playful kisses, pecking them all over my face, really, holding my arms away from my head when I laughed and tried to shield myself against him. When his mouth eventually found mine again and his hands gripped mine tightly, I readily let him distract me from my confused thoughts.

But when I sat in my office and stared out of my window a little while later, wincing as I touched my cut lips, I couldn’t help but wonder about Al’s secretive project.

Just what was he planning to do with the library…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Summer, I finally took the time and read 'The Bell Jar'. I had heard great things about it, so I was excited to try and read it. But... it was alright, I guess? I'm sorry, but I just didn't really enjoy the book. I thought it was kind of dull...  
> So the story is about a young woman named Esther Greenwood, who gets an intership at some sort of big-shot magazine. Esther doesn't really enjoy the internship, because she doesn't really like the big city - and because she's unable to really relate to the other girls there. Also, some guy attempts to rape her. Later, she tries to write a novel and gets depressed in the process, even doing a few attempts to end her life, of which none are succesful (and the first attempt was actually kind of morbidly funny to me). She eventually gets sent to a mental hospital and the story ends on a hopeful note, seemingly suggesting that Esther will actually get her chance to become happy.  
> Unsurprisingly, because of the book's depressing and controversial themes, it has been banned and challenged repeatedly.


	31. Looking for Alaska (John Green)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niffty needs to chill. Also: _werewolves are hot_.

So anyway!

I went downstairs in the morning, yes? Just like always, I just went downstairs, tralalalala, going downstairs! I liked walking, walking was a lot of fun and also stair walking! I think stair walking is a very good exercise for all the people, sinner or no sinner, and everybody should walk more often, yes yes, certainly, a lot more often, I mean I used to walk a lot when I was still alive and right before I decided to hang myself in my bedroom because of—

Oh! 

Oh oh oh oh oh!

What was this? 

Posters!

There were posters – posters all over the walls of the hotel!

Who did this? Who did do this? I looked around me, but everybody around me seemed to be just as baffled as I was, so they probably didn’t do it, I mean no offence, but you must be _pretttttttty_ crazy to firstly hang up all those posters and then join the hotel’s sinners in staring at them I mean just who does that, am I right? Nobody does!

Also, nice, new posters on the wall and everything, but– 

_Who was gonna clean them up later???_

Well geez I guess I’d have to clean them up later, right, well no big deal I guess, right, I mean cleaning was sort of like my thing so I would do just that but not right now.

What did they say, by the way? I had to know!

So I sprinted to the wall, elbowed a few fat sinners out of my way and read what the posters were all about. 

  
_“ATTENTION, DEAR, HELPLESS SINNERS!_

_Do you remember reading that binder, just a little while ago?_   
_Do you long to continue your fictional adventure, but do you find yourself unable to do so because, for some strange reason, you just can’t seem to find the book you have been reading?_   
_Do you not have anything better to do in your worthless afterlife anyway?_

_WELL LOOK NO FURTHER, WORMS!_

_Starting today, yes, right as you are reading this very poster, you are welcome to visit the Hazbin Hotel’s Library on the fourth floor!_

_There, you will be granted the book you were reading up till a few days ago – and finally find out just how your story continues!_

_Does the tragic hero get the girl?_   
_Will the filthy tyrant get punished for his misdeeds?_   
_Will the cutest girl of the story eventually die because of her mysterious illness?_   
_And what will all those farm animals do about their pigtastic suppressors?_

_You might be able to find all of that out – if you just hop on over and enjoy your book in our lovely library._

_You’re free to come and stay as long as you like and we’re free to remove your heads from your bodies if you misbehave. So everybody wins!_

_With kind regards,_

_Alastor”_

So wait I could actually find out what would happen to Aza? 

I didn’t really want to know though.

“Oh, and _now_ we’re suddenly welcome to come on over,” I heard Angel Dust exclaim loudly, as he stood right next to me, talking to a very sceptical-looking Vaggie. “Maybe the two of them are finally fed-up with face-munching in private – maybe they now demand an actual audience, to rub their _nasty_ PG-13-rated sexual tension in our faces. Jesus _Christ.”_

“Or, you know,” Vaggie said, rolling her eye (which was a nice eye, yes a very nice eye but my own was by FAR a lot better, especially when I was still human, I had these really big blue eyes you see), “maybe they are actually telling us to come on over and finish the books we were reading.”

“Wait – so we have a _choice_?” some sinner I didn’t know the name of asked her. “It’s not… _forced_ upon us this time?”

Vaggie nodded. “You read the damn thing too, right: you can drop by if you feel like reading the rest of your binder’s story. If not, well, then you _don’t.”_

The hotel’s clients all said a collective “ohhhhh”. 

Then that one sinner spoke up again, now sporting a huge, nasty grin. “You sure? Well in that case – _screw that fucking lame-ass library_ – I’m gonna hit the club downtown, boyo’s! Who’s with me? That goody-two-shoes-princess isn’t around to stop us now anyway!”

And at least twenty sinners started howling and cheering so rowdy at that, that I was actually a bit worried they might start making a mess of the hallway – and oh boy oh boy I sure hoped they _wouldn’t_ make a mess of the hallway because then I’d have to make a mess out of them and I really really really didn’t want to make a mess of them because guess what – it would be messy and who would clean all that mess up again in the end?

Yes I would, yes I would!

Eventually – not now, but _eventually._

Also Charlie would be disappointed in me and I really didn’t want to disappoint Charlie because even though I was still a bit sour about her and Al hooking up and making all of my steamy RadioDust-fanfics nothing more than a big, stupid pile of fanon that wasn’t going to happen anyway, I still liked her a lot. I mean she was pretty nice and pretty pretty even though she always wore the same boring clothes and OH MY GOD maybe I should give her some fashion tips someday!!

But, you know, later.

Because right now, I had to go to the library with Angel and Vaggie and the other five sinners that still lingered around the posters and looked at each other like ‘well I actually kinda wanna know how my book ends’ and so… 

…off we went!

  
**NnN**

  
“Well would ya look at that – even the fanatic maid-squirt wants to go visit the library! How about _that!_ You like reading, ya little tyke?”

Angel Dust looked down at me and gave me an amused smirk when our humble little group of sinners started walking upstairs, almost as if he hadn’t noticed me up till that moment (and I think he really hadn’t notice me up till that moment, but that’s alright, I was a petite girl and Angel was, like _really_ long and bendy). Vaggie made a sound that sounded like “hm-hm” and the five other sinners didn’t say anything at all.

“Nah I don’t care much for books,” I told Angel. “I just want to support Charlie and Alastor by going to the library and watch the lot of you read books and not, you know, clean everything up, even though I’ll probably have to clean everything up later anyway, because well, I have to, right? That’s what I do, right? But I can hold that off – I’ll show you I can!”

Angel Dust made this complex face that was, like, exasperation and confused laughter squashed together, while Vaggie started talking all of a sudden – I’m not sure to whom she spoke, but I like to think it was me she spoke to, because Vaggie was all kinds of awesome.

“I’m not really sure what Alastor hopes to accomplish: there are only – one, two… – _eight_ of us who’re interested in visiting the library and reading the rest of our books. Eight out of _fifty._ I don’t want to be _that_ person, but… that’s not a lot, is it?”

“Actually just seven,” another unknown sinner said. “I’m only dropping by to check things out.”

Vaggie groaned. “Whatever, _Orla.”_

“Yea – nobody cares, _Orla,”_ Angel added.

Orla – because I guess she was called Orla? – muttered something under her breath but like Angel said, nobody cared.

Well and then we walked and we walked and we walked and as we walked I let my eye take in everything around me because I needed to check where to clean and what to clean in about a few hours and it was good to see that the messiness actually wasn’t all that messy so yay and hooray!

Because now I didn’t have to clean all that much up and that was good because even though I always had to clean up when I needed to clean up, I always needed to clean up even when I didn’t had to clean up?

Look I’m not complaining but it was just kind of tiresome sometimes haha.

Now that I had to go visit the library to help out Al and Charlie, I had an excuse to not clean-up for once and even though I‘d probably punish myself for that later by cleaning up twice as much as soon as I had finished my business at the library, for now it was actually kind of nice to walk around with Angel Dust and Vaggie and Orla and those other guys I never bothered getting to know a bit better since I was always cleaning and writing fanfics and minding my own business. 

Maybe daddy had been right all this time – maybe I really should have been spending a bit more time socializing with others and a bit less time swooning over handsome (fictional) boys that would never pay me any attention anyway, maybe I’d be with him and mom in Heaven right now but who cares right?

Haha!

Haha.

  
**NnN**

  
And then we arrived at the library, everything was decorated with balloons and garlands and there was this huuuuuuuge, old, brown desk standing in the middle of the room with this massive load of books piled up on and around the desk and Alastor was sitting behind it and Charlie was walking around with books as well and it seemed they were like in the middle of a conversation when the eight of us arrived.

“Ah! Hello!” Charlie smiled broadly and walked over to us. “Uhm, welcome to the library! Come on in, make yourselves at home!” 

“Ho _ho!”_ Al in turn boisterously said, instantly raising from his chair and spreading his arms open wide, gleefully knocking over a pile of big fat books in the process. “Yes yes! I see we have quite a few wonderful visitors already! Well! Please do as my lovely business partner told you: come in, my dear, fellow sinners! Come in, line up _right_ there if you have any questions and let yourselves get smacked in the unworthy face by all of this great, fine literature!”

I’m not sure why, but I suddenly felt the need to look around me and when I did I suddenly noticed that we now only were with five sinners – Orla and two other demons had apparently bolted as soon as they had heard Alastor’s extremely passionate-slash-creepy welcoming speech and to be honest I kind of understood why.

I mean I liked Al and he was a good friend of me down here in Hell but he was scary as shit sometimes haha.

“Oh,” Charlie said, as her face dropped a bit upon seeing our decreased group of readers, “you scared some of them off already, Al.”

“That’s quite alright!” Alastor said, sitting down again and beckoning the first unsure sinner to come forward. “Just focus on the positive things, my dear! For instance, we’ve already broken our original visitors record and that is _marvellous!”_

“Our former visitors record was _two,_ Al. You and me.”

“Indeed! Truly this is an _historical_ day!”

She chuckled – and it was kind of endearing to see that Al apparently was able to boost Charlie’s spirit just like that, by acting all wacky and being his creepy self and having faith in this weird scheme of his. 

“Well, at least you’re optimistic. That’s good! Alright, guests – um, how can I help you?”

  
**NnN**

  
I’m not really all that visible when I’m with other people and that’s most of the time a bit annoying but now it actually came in handy, because I now was able to just sit down on a comfy chair and watch as Charlie and Alastor helped the guests and even advised them on what to read after they had finished the book they were currently reading.

Well _Charlie_ was the one that kept track of the books that got handed out to the demons and she’d tell them they weren’t allowed to leave the library with them but they could just sit down in one of all those cutesy seats and read away and she’d bring them some tea or coffee and a nice homemade cookie later.

And Alastor – Alastor would give away the books and give recommendations about what book to go to next and stare in disbelieve at Angel for actually even _being here_ in the first place and then touch Charlie’s arm, shoulder, small of her back and waist without even being fully aware he was doing that, like, _constantly,_ and it was kind of adorable to see because Charlie was aware of it and obviously enjoyed it.

And then Charlie was all of a sudden in front of me – without Alastor, as he was now busy getting on Vaggie’s nerves by giving her all the books written by a certain Mrs. Atwood except for the one she had been reading (“No… no… No! What the – _Look would you just give me the right one already, you spiteful fuck!_ ”). 

Charlie (pretending not to hear any of that) beamed a big smile at me and told me if I wanted to continue reading the book I had been reading before.

“No thanks,” I said. “I didn’t really like that one.”

Charlie seemed surprised. “You… you didn’t? But Niffty, you almost answered all of Al’s questions about your book correctly! I thought you really liked _Turtles all The Way Down_. I mean, it’s even got a main character that’s a lot like… um… you.”

She felt a bit uneasy about addressing this fact to me, I could tell, but I grinned knowingly at her. “I did like the girl. Aza, right? I liked her. She reminded me a lot of myself, yes, with her suffocating habits of doing the things she has to do each and every day, just because her brain tells her to. It was confronting but like in a sort-of comforting way? It was nice to see there are more people like me – it’s good to know.”

“But…?” 

I looked down at my tiny fingers and started fidgeting with a nice little indigo cushion’s tassel. “But it was hard, too.”

I mean that book was also part of the reason why I had come here in the first place, to let myself know I wasn’t just like that Aza girl with her obsessive compulsive disorder, that I could actually temporary stop my feverish cleaning if I wanted to, even though I was sweating pretty badly right now haha.

“I get it,” Charlie then said in a quiet voice – and I think she did actually kind of get it, you know? “So what _would_ you like to read, then?”

I stared at her. “Well I like hot boys?”

“Oh man, we _all_ like hot boys,” Charlie chuckled.

“Ain’t _that_ the truth, honey cakes,” Angel Dust said, who passed us by with his Spider Woman book and plopped down on a couch long enough to hold all of his buggy limbs. _“Preach_ it!”

(Meanwhile, Vaggie made this disagreeing _‘ughhhhhh’-sound_ somewhere in the distance but nobody paid much attention to that.)

“So you’d like to read a book with hot boys,” Charlie mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Let me think about that. Oh, I think I might have something for you!”

“Well _hello_ you two _beautiful_ little dears!” Alastor suddenly popped up _right_ next to Charlie and we both jumped a little at that because sweet baby Jesus that was unexpected I mean wasn’t he just now talking/fighting with Vaggie? Did she finally have her book now??

I sat up a bit and glanced behind him and there I saw Vaggie about to sit down in a very old chair with a contented smile and a worn-out book. 

Oh! Well good for her!

“What seems to be the problem here, my dear?” Alastor asked a still somewhat shaken Charlie. “What are you and Niffty discussing, hmm?”

As Charlie explained to him about the situation, I kept a keen eye on him, observing every little movement of his and yes, yes, he for sure was being _very_ intimate with Charlie, brushing hair out of her face as she kept talking and getting this weird, soft look in his eyes and his voice having this strange, upbeat ring to it, lacking the usual frightening white radio noise and canned laughter, almost as if he only wanted to be with Charlie as himself and not as somebody who wasn’t himself and oh boy did that even make any sense???

I was getting a bit agitated haha. Maybe I should go clean after all I mean I had proven my point now hadn’t I?

 _“What?”_ I then heard Alastor scoff – and I was effectively brought back to the real world again. “You’re going to give her _what_ book?”

Charlie simply ignored him and showed me a blackish book. On it, two pale hands held out a single red apple.

Ooooooh! Shiny. 

“Here you go, Niffty! Try this one out! It’s got _loads_ of hot boys, vampires and even werewolves!”

“Werewolves?” I gasped.

“Werewolves!” Charlie nodded.

 _“Werewolves,”_ I whispered the sacred word again, looking up at her in awe. “Swell. Now _gimme.”_

“No,” I heard Alastor say, while I studied the cover of the book with a fierce curiosity. “Out of the question, Charlie. I cannot let you defile dear Niffty’s innocent head with… _that.”_

“She likes it, Al.”

“It’s trash.”

“She still likes it.”

“Utter, horrible _garbage.”_

“I also kind of like it.”

“Charlie I swear to _god.”_

The bickering between the pair continued for a while and it was all kinds of funny maybe, probably, but I wouldn’t really know or care about them or about anything else really because _right_ then, _right_ there, at that moment, I had opened the book and dove head-first into the refreshing world of the brave Bella, edgy Edward and yummy Jacob (even though I didn’t know yet at that moment that Jacob would be the hunky sexy werewolf man guy). 

As I locked out all the unnecessary words and noises around me, I giggled and nestled into the warm stool a bit better. 

Oh boy oh boy oh _boy!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love (most of) the books of John Green. I read all of them as soon as I could borrow them from my library, and I'm still planning to one day buy all of them and read them all over again.^^  
> 'Looking for Alaska' is a coming-of-age story about a boy called Pudge (real name: Miles) who goes to boarding school, and tries to make it his life goal to look for the Big Perhaps (presumably life after death). In school, he befriends a couple of people, like the spunky and beautiful Alaska. Pudge quickly becomes smitten with her, but never gets to be with her. One day, Alaska dies in a tragic car accident. Pudge is now forced to face the unsettling fact that maybe, Alaska's accident was actually suicide - and to think about who or what she really meant to him.  
> This book was pulled out of a lot of American school libraries - not because of its heavy themes, but because it talks about experimenting with drugs, alcohol and sex. Green defended his book: he felt people should've spent more time on reading and understanding the actual content of the story instead of complaining about a few specific scenes.


	32. The Awakening (Kate Chopin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel Dust can't stand watching Alastor's pining for Charlie any longer and helps him out. It leads to an unexpected change.

When I was reading in the library again, just like I had been doing for a few days now, I found my mind drifting off. Just – very quietly, very gradually. 

You know, I never _bothered_ to read.

As far as I knew, reading was for _nerds_ and _geeks_ and _ugly fat-ass_ people who didn’t have anything better to do. Hell, I know _I_ didn’t have time to pick up a book and start reading when I was still alive – I had too many… jobs to do. Yyyea, let’s call them _jobs._ And _things._ And _men._ Lots and lots and _lots_ of great and wonderful jobs and things and men, ohhhhh yesssss _indeed._

It wasn’t the best. 

Not at all. 

I mean, _shit,_ I didn’t die of a fucking drug overdose because I was barfing up goddamn _rainbows of happiness_ during my sort-yet-bittersweet lifetime. 

Although they did find me in a pile of vomit. 

I wanted to get away from it, man. I just wanted to get away from all of it.

But, eh. 

At least being a sex worker was a way better line of work than what dear old pops had wanted me to do. Sure, I kicked the bucket _long_ before reaching my forties, but if I had become a mob gangster like my father, I doubt I’d gotten the luxury of getting older than 30 in the first place. I got lucky, I liked to tell myself – ‘cause I got to live a lil’ bit longer than most people expected. And hey, I was bound to die young anyway. Gotta count your blessings, am I right? 

Anyway, I could only imagine Big Vee’s reaction if he knew what I’d been up to these past days. Oh man – Valentino, laughing his grisly ass off in disbelieve as he watched me doing what I was doing right now: lounging on this tacky couch, almost as if my gorgeous body was oh so very much _born_ to do so, with a book in my hands and my other hands resting on my poofy chest, actually _liking_ the whole act of reading…

I smirked weakly.

He’d kick the shit out of me if I showed my face outside the hotel.

I know he would. I had been avoiding his porn palace and ignore his calls for far too long now. The only thing that kept Valentino from storming the hotel and dragging me back to his seedy shitty business was his crippling fear of Alastor. 

So… I stayed inside and read my book. 

Just like that.

And just like all them other sinners.

‘Cause believe it or not, the past couple of days, there’d actually been an _increase_ in literature-loving sinners.  
  


  
**DdD  
  
**

  
The first few days, it was only me, Vaggie, Niffty and Those Two Other Dudes, as I liked to call them (apparently their names were Reggie and Leonard? The hell if I cared) that started visiting the library. 

Later on, word began to spread that things up here in the library were actually kind of chill and relaxing. That reading wasn’t all that boring and even kind of entertaining, that Charlie was a fucking _angel_ and that Alastor, while he kept being the invasive, overbearing ass-hat he was, _did_ in fact _know_ his books, and therefore was perfectly able to give you some pretty solid reading advice on what book was a good pick for you, no matter what kind of genre spoke to you.

Eventually, at least ten to twelve sinners – next to me, Vaggie and Niffty – decided that finding out how their books were going to end was far more interesting than pissing their imaginary pants at the thought of being in the same room as Alastor. Besides, they probably told themselves, the Radio Demon’s unsettling presence wasn’t as awful as long as Charlie was right there with him – and she worked on him like a catalysis: she filtered out all the bad stuff that red fuck-face _would_ and _could_ say or do, and make everything a little bit better, healthier and _way_ more pleasant for the rest of us.

You know – just like a _real_ catalysis!

Alastor was so fucking spellbound by Charlie, he didn’t even bother hiding it anymore, always trying to catch her attention the moment the Demon Princess wasn’t carrying books around or caught up doing other book-related things. It would be extremely _painful_ to witness all of this – I mean goddamn that guy was so fucking _desperate_ for her it almost physically _hurt_ to watch – if Charlie didn’t wholeheartedly return _every single bit_ of affection he gave her.

For example, if Charlie tried to put away a book on a shelve that was too high up for her to reach, Alastor would appear at her side and offer her his aid – and usually his kind of aid involved touching Charlie in some way, like grabbing her and awkwardly holding her up, while we all knew it would’ve been far more effective to just take the book from her hands and put it away himself.

But then Charlie would just laugh, and thank him, and hug him, and suddenly pull him behind a bookcase or whatever and then show up five minutes later again, her hair all tangled up and her face red but content, after which Alastor would follow suit, partly tripping over himself as he’d be too occupied recovering from _whatever_ had happened behind the bookcase to watch where he was walking.

But I digressed. 

Anyway, I, for one, was _glad_ business in the library was starting to boom some more, because I didn’t plan to come back after I had finished my book. To be fair, I believed that there were more interesting things to do.

Like…

Uhh.

Well _luckily_ for them, I was a very _slow,_ yet _dedicated_ reader! So I took my sweet time reading my book, ‘cause why the hell not, right? Three pages a day – that was more than enough for me. Thing wasn’t gonna run away from me anyway, and Charlie and Alastor always seemed happy enough to see me stopping by.

I kinda liked that. Being expected and wanted, I mean. It was nice. 

Maybe I’d stop by even after I had finished my current book. Maybe. Y’know, every once in a while.

Vaggie had already started in Atwood’s novel’s follow-up book at this point, by the way. She read a lot faster than I did, and yet she still managed to give me the impression she was still loving it way more than I was enjoying my book. Probably because she was like one of the smartest persons in Charlie’s hotel. 

But Niffty? Oh man, _Niffty._

Not even Vaggie could hold a candle to Niffty.

That little shit had fucking torn through some books _so relentlessly_ , it wasn’t even funny anymore. She had begun reading this sappy, gothic-y, melodramatic novel series _(Dusk_ I believe it was called, or something like that?) and my sweet god did she _read_ like a motherfuckin’ _lunatic._ Within three days, she had finished _three books_ , and now, on the fourth day, she was not as much _reading_ the final, giant entry in the series laying on her non-existent lap as she was _eating it up_. 

Charlie was happily encouraging it, too, and had even placed some other books at Niffty’s designated reading spot that were a lot like the YA-series she had almost finished reading – _much_ to Alastor’s dismay, as I often saw him watching Charlie and Niffty juggling around the books he hated so much, with this preoccupied half-smile, half-frown of his.

Now that I thought about it – he _really_ had been doing that a lot these days. Watching Charlie from a little distance when he wasn’t busy, his arms tightly folded on his back, his mind obviously lost in his own thoughts. His restless hands, that twirled his cane-like microphone stand of his around like it was a fucking helicopter, and the impatient rocking on his heels, back-and-forth, easily gave away he seemed to be… waiting for something?

Look, I _couldn’t_ read about Valentin and Molina’s blossoming romance when Alastor’s sinister, fucked-up radio aura was messing up my own personal vibes – for some reason, the pompous pimp always seemed to stand somewhere near _me_ when he was ogling Charlie like it was nobody’s business – so now, I decided to leave my comfy couch and just ask him what the hell was up with him already. 

“I seem to love her,” he answered me right away.

Well that escalated quickly.

“Uhh.” I watched him watching Charlie and scratched the back of my head. “Congratulations… for finally realizing what we all knew for weeks already, I guess. But ya know – maybe you should tell _her,_ and not me. ‘Cause I, like, don’t even give the _tiniest_ crap.”

“I can’t tell her,” Alastor carried on. “Not as long as she hasn’t reached the right page.”

I took a calculated risk and stepped a bit closer to him – he seemed too conflicted with himself to cackle at me to stay away from him anyway.

“You’re waiting for her to reach a page?” I snickered. “What – does that page have a _love declaration_ on it or something?”

“Why yes.”

He didn’t even flinch. I stopped snickering. 

“Oh.” 

“Ever since we’ve opened the library for the hotel’s other sinners, Charlie and I have lost our place to spend our break time. To take a breather. To – read our own books. I hadn’t really thought about that.”

I nodded _very_ quietly, making sure I wouldn’t do or say anything that would snap him out of this weird, thoughtful stupor. I mean, Jesus Christ, it was kind of mind-blowing Al had suddenly started talking about his inner turmoil to _me,_ of all fucking people, and I was too much of a gossip lover to turn away at this opportunity to gobble all of his frustrations up like it was an afternoon snack. Who knows when I could use it in my advantage, after all!

Alastor’s grin was steadfast as it always was, but I could still hear a sigh escape from his mouth. 

“Now, Charlie hasn’t read her book in _days._ Last time she read it, she got to page 160 – she liked to taunt me by telling me how far she had gotten in it each and every day, you see. She was nearly there – and that was perfectly fine, since I was ready for her to reach it. I had mentally prepared myself for the moment she’d read page 171 and everything would be out and about – and then _this_ happened.” 

He gestured to the library’s many guests and visitors, walking around, reading books and asking Charlie for tea, coffee and cookies.

“And now, who _knows_ how long it will take before Charlie will pick up her book again. Do _you_ know? I don’t have the slightest idea.”

I let out a low whistle. “Your romantic book plan kinda backfired on ya, now didn’t it.”

Alastor didn’t respond to that. He did shake his head and suddenly turn around – almost scaring the _shit_ out of me because of the suddenness of it all, goddammit – and then he briskly walked back to his desk, picking up a few books that laid on top of it. Everything, from his silent back to that one action, told me the mostly one-sided conversation had ended.

Now I could just have shrugged at that and returned to my couch and book. The gloomy sucker had stopped gazing at Charlie after all, and I had gotten my fair share of potential blackmail-stuff. It wasn’t like this had anything to do with _me._

And yet…

You see – Molina and Valentin weren’t going to get their happy ending. I just knew they weren’t. I maybe wasn’t as good a reader as Vaggie was, or as enthusiastic about (certain) books as Niffty, but I recognized the foreboding signs in the story of _The Kiss of the Spider Woman_. Somebody was going to die and their budding love would be snuffed out before it’d ever get the chance to bloom. 

I hated love stories with a bad ending.

And although I knew Al and Charlie’s love story probably wasn’t as dramatically close to an unhappy ending as Molina and Valentin’s was, not by _far,_ I couldn’t fucking bear watching Alastor staring at Charlie like a sad Bambi, while Charlie was blissfully unaware of his dilemma. I had seen enough soap operas to know how _that_ eventually would end and dammit, I was going to meddle, wasn’t I. I just couldn’t help myself, could I.

Ugh…

So… against my better judgement, I gathered some of my courage – you never know how an evil overlord in love would react to trolling assholes like myself after all – and swiftly walked over to where Al was.

“So, that’s it?” I asked him mockingly. 

He looked up from lining up some books that were a set with a questioning glint in his eyes.

“That’s it,” I repeated. “You’re giving up. You’re just gonna wait until Princess Lollipop over there finally gets the chance to read the rest of her book, no matter how long that might take.”

“Yes?” he answered – but the answer sounded unsure.

“No you’re _not,”_ I said.

Alastor’s aloof demeanor was beginning to fade away – and I could practically see it switching places with explicit annoyance and exasperation, no matter how stiffly he kept that smile in its place.

He turned away from the desk with a curt snort, and almost gave me a whack with his cane-thing. “Well then, my dear, perverted fellow! What do _you_ suggest I should do, then?”

I groaned. “Holy shit, Al, you _know_ what I suggest: don’t fucking wait for Charlie to reach that page, just _tell_ her how you feel! You said it yourself: you’re ready! What are you waiting for! Screw that stupid book – and then start screwing _her_ already! God knows she’s been waiting for you to do just that.”

“Well now! You truly are a _despicable_ creature,” Alastor said, his voice dripping with disgust.

Not… _just_ disgust, though.

Ahh. 

I chuckled and fixed my hair a bit. “You’d like to try it with her, don’tcha?”

He stared at me.

“Don’tcha?” I asked again.

He kept on staring at me and sweet jesus if his piercing eyes had been fucking lasers, I’d be dead where I stand. He didn’t _do_ anything, though, and his stubborn refusal to agree nor disagree with me seemed to hint he actually was waiting for me to keep on going.

“You should try it,” I therefore said – careful now, _very_ careful. “Maybe you like it, maybe you won’t. Big deal. At least you can experiment with somebody you actually care about. Not all of us have had that kind of luck, y’know.”

Whoa, _whoa_ – enough now. Too close for comfort.

“Eh, you know what – forget about it. I’m just rambling away now, anyway.” I looked away and fought off the sudden, stupid desire to hug myself. Not now, dammit – I’d do so later, when I was alone. At least then all these scrawny arms of mine could be put to good use, am I right? 

“Like, what do I know about love, right, I’m just a slutty spider, haha – just ignore me, Al. And sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Thank you.”

I stopped my own mumbling sentence and jolted my face up again, just in time to see Alastor grant me a single, nonchalant pat on one of my shoulders. With his actual hand. Without leaving a scratch or any other sort of mark behind.

He walked away right after, not even bothering to look behind him as he returned to the task he had been doing before I had spoken up to him. 

He did hum, though.

“Y-you’re welcome,” I stammered, blinking furiously.  
  


  
**DdD  
  
**

  
Later that day, something good, yet very sick and twisted happened.

I was in my bedroom and I wanted to hug myself – just wrap all of my arms around myself, to reassure myself everything actually would be alright as long as my own arms told me I would, and hey, at least I had done a good deed, right? 

I had given Al some advice and he had appreciated it – _thanked_ me for it, even. It had been a good day. 

So I wrapped all of my arms around myself.

Only to discover that all of my arms were only _two_ of them. Almost as if—

Oh. 

_Oh._

Okay. This was supposed to be a good thing. I should be happy this happened.

But dammit I now didn’t have enough arms to keep me from crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wanted to read 'The Awakening' for years now - but I haven't yet. I'm kind of disappointed in myself I still haven't read it, because according to some reviews I have read about it online, it's like the American version of Madame Bovary - and I quite liked that book.  
> The book is about Edna, a mother of two boys and a loving wife to Léonce. Everything is going swimmingly, until Edna falls in love with a certain Robert - who then promptly flees to Mexico, as he doesn't want to shame her by making her cheat on her husband. Edna then starts to think about what she wants in live, only to discover she wants more sex in her life. Just sex. So she starts having more of that. Eventually, she finds out Robert is still thinking about her and she tries to be with him yet again - but that ultimately leads to her sad demise.  
> According to some sources I found, Chopin's reputation was well underway when she published 'The Awakening'- and then everything crashed down as soon as the critics read her book. It wasn't banned, but it was challenged - and people considered the book to be very immoral. Chopin apparently was so upset by all of the negative responses, she hardly dared to write anything anymore after all this ruckus. She died a few years later, completely disillusioned with herself. It's pretty tragic, really.


	33. Beloved (Toni Morrison)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor finally confesses his love to Charlie.

When had it become so comfortable for me to accompany Charlie to her private chambers?

When had it become so pleasant for me to join the beautiful princess in bed?

When had it become so outright _peculiar_ for me to _not_ do so? 

It had been more than a week, now. More than a week since Charlie had meekly invited me to sleep with her – in the non-sexual sense of the word. I could still feel the soft, calm pull of Charlie’s hands back then, as they carefully brought me into her domain, just like I could also still vividly remember the way she silently beckoned me to follow her inside her bedroom on the second night I stayed over.

Why, I could actually recall each and every tactic she used for the past week to get me to sleep with her. In the beginning, she was cute, shy and patient with me. Later, her actions grew less formal and more… _normal._ As if it just was the most logical thing to do. She would let me walk her to her room, and once we’d gotten there, she would make these throw-away, quasi-nonchalant remarks, like ‘oh Al, once you’re in, close the door behind you, okay?’ or ‘do you want to use the bathroom, first?’ or even ‘you can kiss me goodnight once we’re in bed, is that okay?’.

She wasn’t being subtle about it. She didn’t attempt to hide her desire to have me at her side in bed – no, she was _very_ straightforward about wanting me to be at her side.

It was unnerving.

It was soothing.

It was puzzling. 

All I knew was that eventually, I had come to find it just as normal as Charlie. 

Walking into her bedroom with her. Getting changed into my nightwear. Slipping underneath the covers of Charlie’s big and welcoming bed. Waiting for her to finish her call with her mother (or that strange device you apparently got when the person you called didn’t answer their phone). Turning off the light. Feeling Charlie’s supportive warmth and soft arms arrange themselves around me. Relaxing. Talking about… nothing in particular for a little while. And then, finally, dozing off.

Surely, we had changed into a perfectly domestic couple!

However, we _weren’t_ an official couple. Not as long as I hadn’t told Charlie I loved her. 

Well would you look at that! I was finally able to tell _myself_ that I loved Charlie, which, I believed, was infinitely harder to do than telling _her_ these exact same words.

I had wanted to wait, though. I told myself it would have been more tasteful if she’d reach page 171, first, after which I’d come with additional information concerning that page. But since it didn’t seem like Charlie was going to read any day soon – not as long as the library kept getting as many visitors as it did lately – perhaps I should follow Angel Dust’s advice and simply tell the apple of my eye exactly how I felt about her.

And then… what?

_“You’d like to try it with her, don’tcha?”_

I wasn’t sure.

_“You should try it.”_

Should I, though?

_**“She will destroy you.”** _

Was _that_ what Vaggie was referring to?

I… 

What should I _do?_

  
**AaA**

A graceful, attentive hand was unexpectedly placed on my face, pulling me back into the real world – gently, so gently.

“Al?”

Charlie, who had just ended her daily goodnight-call with her mother, eyed me worriedly. Her hand didn’t leave my face right away, almost as if she needed some reassurance everything was perfectly fine with me, first. Ah, oh my. That was exactly something I had come to expect from Charlie, I suppose. 

I gave her a smile and took her hand from my face, holding it in my own. It was smaller – quite a bit smaller, too. It was softer as well. Softer, paler, warmer.

“You look tired,” Charlie carried on, as I hadn’t answer her question. She scooched a little closer to me and put her other, free hand on my forehead, furrowing her brows. The soft, pinkish light of the lamp on her nightstand illuminated her lovely features and for a quiet moment, I simply looked at her while she kept babbling on about me needing to get more sleep, and to take more breaks, and to eat a bit healthier.

She had gotten out of the shower about an hour ago, so her skin radiated a warmth which was even more attractive than it usually was. Her hair was fluffy and curling around her face, as if it wanted to frame it. Her eyes were open wide and bright, and beautifully black with tiny dots of light in them, like the night sky. It was an amazing sight, in all fairness, and I could most likely look at her for hours. 

“Are you sick?” Charlie suddenly squished my face in-between her two hot hands, making me look directly at her, and therefore automatically making me flush, just a little bit. 

I chuckled lowly, which caused Charlie to let go of my face at last. “Forgive me, my dear. I seem to be a bit… out of it. I’m not sick, don’t worry, I’m just…”

“Sleepy?” Charlie asked, while I leant closer to her and gently took her chin. She started to blush as I slowly rubbed my thumb over her skin and her way of breathing seemed to change ever so slightly, as she waited for me to make the next move. 

And then I nodded.

“Yes, I’m probably sleepy.”

I retracted my hand and lay down. 

For a split second, I thought this was the right decision of me to do. Cleary, I wasn’t ready for any of this. I wasn’t able to make up my mind about whether or not to tell Charlie about my feelings for her, about the thoughts I had about her, about the conflicting desires I had rummaging around in my own head.

This was the right decision, for sure.

And then I saw Charlie’s face.

I had expected to see disappointment on her face – she would have all rights to be disappointed with me, honestly. Maybe even some irritation, a dash of distress and just the teeniest hint of frustration. 

But I could only see genuine _relieve_ and a mildly-comforted smile.

“Okay! Then, let’s just go to sleep. Who knows – maybe you’ll even be able to sleep more than four hours this night. Maybe if I try to hold on to you some more… yeah, that should work! I’ll try just that, okay? Fingers crossed!”

My god.

This woman.

This _wonderful_ woman.

As she started to turn around, to reach for her the lamp on her bedside’s nightstand, I suddenly couldn’t stop myself anymore – and the words just came tumbling out, in unsure, stuttering bits.

“In – in vain, I have…”

Charlie’s hand stopped mid-air and she looked over her shoulder in wonder.

“Did you say something?”

I took a deep breath and started anew – she deserved to hear all of it, openly and unhindered, from the beginning to the end.

“In vain, I have struggled. It will not do.”

She stared at me for a moment – then she quietly lay down as well, on her side, watching me fixedly. The light on her side of the bed cast a shadow over her figure, but I could still see her eyes, shining hopefully as she began to fidget with the covers.

“My feelings will no longer be repressed. You must allow me to tell you – to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” 

Charlie didn’t move and didn’t even dare to blink anymore at this point – that was just how intendedly she was watching me. 

“I…” 

I cleared my throat for a second, since that ‘I’ came out a lot more raspy than I had wanted to. 

“I... I have this heart, Charlie. It’s a wicked heart. It’s tainted, black from the inside. It’s heavy with all the burdens and sins I have carried and committed, both in life as in Hell. It’s a foul, nasty, rotten heart – it’s a corrupted, impure lump of flesh. I have always _cherished_ it with every fibre of my very being. Nothing could be better or stronger than that decaying organ in my chest – and so I always protected it – _violently_ protected it against each and every single being that ever dared to do as much as look at it – at _all_ of it. 

Fortunately, I could rest at ease: apart from my own mother, there never had been a mortal soul in and out of my lifetime that ever cared about my heart. And why _would_ they, really – my heart’s been a lost cause ever since I started straying from the so-called righteous path. Besides, it was a filthy thing. Nobody wants filthy things. 

But then _you_ came along, Charlie. You looked – no, _stared_ at my heart – and then you touched it, and then you embraced it, and then you held it so tightly I thought it would burst in my chest from the hysterical confusion your touch caused. You weren’t afraid of its filth, of its stench, of its horrible history. You _wanted_ my heart. You wanted _all_ of my heart, even though you knew how despicable it was. Simply because you happened to fall in love with me. Nothing more, nothing less. Just that. Only that.”

I moved closer to the blonde princess, who was still watching me – silently, respectfully, her concentrated gaze filled with tenderness and love. I wrapped my arms around her, up her back, gripping her shoulders and pulling her flush against me, her forehead pressing against mine – it felt good to do that. Her hands fluttered to my back, clutching my shirt.

“It’s yours,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “This dirty, hopeless heart of mine – it is yours. You can do with it whatever you wish. You can. Because I love you, Charlie. I love you so much I can barely stand it. I love you so much. I just love you _so much_.”

“O-oh, I-I’ll take it. Your heart. And… I-I love you, too,” Charlie finally croaked out, sniffling and grinning broadly at me as she pressed a happy kiss to my mouth. “Oh my _god_ – I finally got to say it – I finally got to say the ‘love you too’ part!”

Her delighted reaction and the fact I could literally feel a weight falling from my shoulders was one of the best feelings I had ever experienced – and I wanted to say something to her. A word of thanks, maybe, or a smug remark, because why not, but Charlie wouldn’t let me.

She threw her arms around my neck and smooched the living daylight out of me with those sugary kisses I had come to love so much, falling back into her pillow and dragging me on top of her – and in most cases, I’d let her have her way for a little while, passively enjoying her relentless affection and enthusiastic, fiery kisses before gently pushing her away and allowing the both of us to breathe again.

But not this time. 

This time, I found myself answering her cutesy, shallow kisses with deeper, more passionate ones, as I kept lying on her and moved my hands down her back, lower and lower. Her cheerful giggling turned into quiet moans and her own hands started getting a bit riskier as well, trying to remove my nightwear and touch the skin underneath it.

For a moment, she opened her eyes, just when I was doing so as well, and the both of us stopped for a while, panting in quick, uneven puffs of air. Something new, nerve-wrecking and electrifying was hanging heavily in the air and there was a clear, but nonvocal question in Charlie’s eyes.

“Yes,” I complied. “I’d love to.” 

“O-oh, okay,” Charlie softly muttered at that, swallowing some of our shared saliva and taking a somewhat sweaty hold on my face. “Okay – nice.”

“I – might need some guidance, though,” I admitted.

“Oh that’s alright – I – I can give you guidance,” Charlie said, wigging around on the mattress until she was in a more comfortable position. Then, she instantly took a firm hold on my face again, nuzzling it for a bit before lightly pushing it away from hers. “Okay. Um. First of all, Al – before we do this – please promise me you will tell me to stop if you want me to stop. It doesn’t matter how or when, just… let me know. It’s – it’s important. I want this, I really, _really_ want this – but I only want this if _you_ want this, too.”

“Well that’s convenient, because I only want this if _you_ want this,” I sharply remarked.

She chuckled, then flicked my nose. _“Promise_ me, Al.”

“I promise.” I planted a kiss in-between her eyes in an attempt to erase the slight frown there. “I love you.”

“Oh god. I like how that sounds. I mean, I like – I like those words, coming from you. I – I love you, too.” Charlie mumbled, half-shyly, half-excitedly, and pulled my face back towards hers again to press yet another series of kisses on every piece of skin she could find. I was more than content to let her and even managed to steal some slightly more impudent kisses from her, too. 

Then she paused her kissing and pointed at her pyjama top, her hands shaking a bit, her lips already swollen and bruised.

“You – you see this, Al?”

I nodded. “You’ve got a fine taste for nightwear, my love. Endearing, yet cosy. Still, be sure to wear one of those ragged old nightgowns of yours next time – you look _stunning_ in them.”

She blushed, both surprised as she was flattered. “O-oh, you really think so…?”

“Absolutely.” I gave a peck to her nose. “You’re beautiful.”

“T-thank you. I’m glad you… um, appreciate my PJ’s so much.”

“Why of cours—”

Charlie put a finger on my lips, her eyes glistering mischievously.

“Now – please take them off.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never read 'Beloved', but I've heard about the work from CrashCourse (yet again). It's a pretty rough and gritty book, filled with hidden meanings and everything but romance - and therefore, I probably won't read it anytime soon.  
> In 'Beloved', we follow Sethe, a former slave who tries to leave a couple of horrible happenings behind her and just live out her life in relative peace and happiness. But, of course, she's unable to, because the (quite literal) ghosts of her past keep on haunting her, her lover and her family, almost driving her completely insane. These ghosts take the form of a girl named Beloved - and Sethe knows more about her than she's comfortable with.  
> This story deals with some very, very heavy themes, but miraculously enough, it does have something that resembles a happy ending, thank god. The book still got challenged and many schools refused to have it in their libraries, because it was too violent, too sexual and too controversial.


	34. The Scarlet Letter (Nathaniel Hawthorne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor and Charlie spend the night together.  
>  _Really_ for real this time.

It’s rude to refuse a lady’s request – especially if she’s a beautiful lady you happen to be heavily infatuated with – so I hooked my hands underneath Charlie’s arms, set her upright again, in a sitting position, and patiently began unbuttoning her pyjama vest. I was an utterly charming, good-quality pyjama vest, with pink and red colors, and like I had told her before, it suited the lovely princess very well.

Charlie seemed somewhat taken by surprise at this thorough action of mine, but, after a gentle chuckle, just let me undo her vest. 

“You know,” she said in a quiet voice, “I thought you’d… rip it open and just tear it off my body.”

I looked at her in wonder – but only for a moment. Those buttons were quite difficult to undo, after all. 

“Really now? But I would’ve ruined your pyjama vest. The buttons would’ve shot in every possible direction, making a mess of your room.”

“Probably, yes.”

I got what she was trying to tell me and cocked my head. “Would you have _liked_ me ruining your pyjama vest?”

Charlie blushed and shrugged. “I don’t know – maybe? Although I do kind of like how you’re trying to get me out of my pyjama's _now.”_

“Are you quite sure?” I started tugging experimentally on the still-clasped buttons on her vest. “I could still try and rip it apart – wait, hold on for a moment.”

But Charlie laughed and placed her hands on mine, shaking her head. “No no – do carry on like this! I _like_ it! I like – seeing you like this. Acting all careful and – um – respecting my clothes like that.” 

“Well, naturally,” I said. “After all, it’s _you_ we’re talking about here.”

The princess got just that tiny tad redder and bent forwards. Her lips touched my forehead and when I looked up to try and ask her what was the matter, her lips pressed themselves against mine – softly. It temporarily shut my brains down, to be fair. 

“M-maybe I should help you,” she mumbled against my mouth – and before I was able to think of any kind of protest, her fingers got tangled up with mine as she, swiftly and skilfully, guided my hands through the act of unbuttoning her pyjama’s.

She helpfully twisted and turned her torso a bit to help me getting her out of her vest, after which she was left half-naked – half-naked and fidgeting around nervously, for some reason.

I gave her a weird look as I neatly folded her vest. “Something wrong, dear? Are you cold? Well I can understand _that_ – I just removed your vest and you had a shower not too long ago.”

Charlie blinked. “Uhm… I—”

“You’re absolutely, unbelievably, drop-dead _gorgeous,_ by the bye.” 

She instantly beamed at that, delighted with the compliment.

“Thank you – y-you think? Thanks!”

I smiled back at her and took my time observing her charming figure, her delicate breasts and her white skin some more, while putting her vest down on the floor, next to the bed. Even someone like me could see Charlie was a truly alluring, bewitching beauty, sitting in-between her sheets like that, awkwardly rubbing her arms with flushed cheeks. Surely, it was a very adorable, very enticing sight to see. 

Charlie pushed back some of her hair and seemed to think very hard for a moment, before suddenly reaching down her own waist and wringing around. I watched her doing that, trying to figure out what the devil she was doing, when she suddenly sat up again, her face red from the effort, and, almost proudly, showed me the bottom part of her pyjama’s.

“I got out of them myself,” she said. “And now I’m completely naked.”

Then she just threw her pants off the bed. 

A bit concerned, I noticed goosebumps raising on her upper arms. “Naked and _cold.”_

“Yup. Naked and cold.” Charlie nodded, slightly amused. 

“Well that just won’t do,” I decided. I moved closer to her, quickly undid my own pyjama top and put it over her shoulders. _“There_ then.”

She smiled as I tried to wrap my shirt around her a bit better. It was no use. Charlie had a fairly slim frame, sure, but so did I. I just kept touching her skin instead – firstly by accident, but the more I got to feel its soft, warm sensation, the more I wanted to touch her – touch _all_ of her.

“It’s okay,” Charlie muttered, gently taking my hands and placing them on her breasts, “you can touch me, Al. You can touch me as much as you want. But in turn – can I touch you, too?”

“You touched all of my heart not too long ago,” I told her, slowly enclosing my hands around her supple, curved bust. “So of course, my love… of course you can touch my body, as well.”

“Okay… uhm, then – then I will. Wait a minute…”

Charlie managed to crawl on top of my lap, sort of clumsily, sort of expertly wounding her long, slender legs around my waist area. This surprising action caused me to let go of her for a bit – but it also caused me to automatically enclose my arms around her, feeling the naked vulnerability of her bare skin under my fingertips. Charlie, meanwhile, looked at my torso with worried eyes as she tenderly started to trace her fingers over the many scars scattered over my ashen skin.

“You don’t mind this?” her soft-spoken voice asked me.

“No.” I caressed her back, which was smooth and silky, free from any signs of damage or pain. It was comforting, reassuring, even, to feel that Charlie didn’t have any of those kind of wounds.

“I want to kiss them.” Charlie looked up at me, questioningly. “Can I kiss them, Al?” 

I had to laugh a bit, even though it didn’t sound like a laugh when it left my throat. “What – do you wish to kiss them better, my love? Don’t trouble yourself with that – they stopped hurting years ago, honestly. I know they look ugly and raw, but—”

“I just want to kiss them, Al. Because they are part of you – and I’m not sure you know it yet, but…” Charlie secretively cupped a hand to her mouth and sat up just a bit, shamelessly pressing her chest to mine as she reached for my ears, and whispered: “… _I kind of love you_ , you know?”

Oh _lord_.

I held her more tightly. “I know. And I love you, too. And I - I want to kiss you so much right now.”

Charlie took my face in her hands as she sat down again, making me look at her angelic face and her kind smile, curved upwards. “You know what – you let me kiss your scars, first. Then you can kiss me. And then we should – you know – lay down. If – if that’s okay with you. Is that okay with you?”

I hesitated.

“Al.” She patted my cheeks, giving one of them a little pinch. “Answer me, darling.”

I stared at her, my eyes getting big.

Charlie blushed furiously, cracking a little shy smile.

“N-not good?”

“No – I mean yes. Good. _Yes._ Very yes. Yes.” I breathed in. “It’s okay, Charlie. You can kiss my scars.”

Charlie didn’t hesitate for a second. She rewarded me with a thankful smile – and then instantly began placing butterfly-like kisses on my skin, leaving hot, loving marks wherever her lips touched bits of my chest, my stomach, my side, my shoulders and my neck, as if she wanted to set my body on fire.

It was hard to concentrate when I felt her touches roaming over my skin – both her mouth and her hands, caressing, rubbing and fondling my body with the utmost care. Something started to boil deep inside of me and I couldn’t help but tremble at every feather-light brushing of Charlie’s dedicated lips. It felt so different and yet so heavenly to keep her in place, in my embrace, on my lap, her abdomen firmly squished against my crotch.

I sighed, just when Charlie made an approving humming sound, and then her arms were all of a sudden put around my neck. She kissed me on the mouth, _finally,_ and willingly parted her lips as I put a hand behind her head and deepened the kiss with a strange, bordering on rabid hunger I hadn’t felt before. We moved our mouths _just so_ and I could hear her soft moans, filled with pleasure, as I thoughtlessly rubbed myself against her. 

“Alright,” Charlie panted, after she had separated our faces form each other with a wet pop, “alright – you feel pretty – _oh_ – we – we should lay down now, Al – lay down, o-okay?”

“Lay down,” I repeated, staring at her hazily. 

“Yeah – lay down.” Charlie gulped. “I want you to lay down on top of me, Al.”

“I’ll gladly lay down on top of you.”

She laughed breathily. “Yeah, I bet you do. Come on.”  
  


  
**AaA  
  
**

  
It was hard to describe what sensations and feelings overflowed my entire being as I pushed Charlie against her mattress and wasted no time in pressing my body back on top of hers. 

The smell of Charlie’s natural scent was soaked into her bed, her covers and in her own compliant limbs, which she greedily encircled around me as soon as she saw her chance. Her slightly sweaty, slightly shaking hands kept holding on my face as we shared even more kisses and the small, desperate noises she made whenever I touched her in certain dark, warm, moist places nearly drove me wild. 

She liked this – she liked this so much, and I liked it so much she liked this so much, because I also liked this so much.

I had apparently lost my own pants as well, somewhere along the line, but I didn’t mind that all that much. All I cared for right now was Charlie, and Charlie, and Charlie – and being with her as closely as I could, as much as I was able to, as passionately as I could muster.

Eventually, I pulled back a bit – simply because I wanted to look down at Charlie, laying underneath me. Her chest heaved up and down in a restless, quick pace – I felt it rampaging against my own. Her hair was all over the place, golden and mystical. Her face and neck were covered in rough kiss marks and her darkened, yet still bright eyes had never before looked up at me like _that._ Her hands slid down from my face to my shoulders.

“Al?”

“Yes?”

“You…” Charlie tried to catch her breath a bit – and smiled gingerly when I wiped some hair from her damp forehead. “You’re still… okay with all of this?”

“Yes,” I decidedly said.

“Good – very good.” She let out another puff of air. “So am I. You – you feel good, Al. You feel so good.”

“Why _thank_ you, my dear.” I took one of her hands from my shoulders to press a kiss on it, as any gentleman would do. "So do you.”

Charlie giggled. “You’re such a charmer.”

“You speak for yourself, Charlie dear.”

“I – I’d like you to – wait. Okay.” 

Charlie gripped my hand and pulled it underneath the covers, leading it down her tingling skin, before pushing it into the tight space in-between our lower bodies. I had to swallow when I felt my fingers stroking the warm wetness of her inner thighs.

“I-I’m ready, you know?” Charlie huskily mumbled, her free hand combing through my hair – while her other hand encouraged my own to keep on fingering her. “You – _ah_ – you have made me like this. And – _an_ – and if you’re ready as well – and I think you are – you can… we can… ah… _ah…”_

I waited with bated breath for her to finish, while I kept probing her in a steady, slow rhythm.

I knew I should stop to let her say what she wanted to say. 

Goodness – I knew that all too well. 

I wasn’t experienced in this field in any possible, thinkable way, but even I could imagine it wasn’t easy to keep on talking when the fingers of somebody you adored were inside of you, touching you in a way that made you feel _that_ good.

But her sounds – the rapid pants, the gentle gasps and eager, muffled moans – oh, they sounded so _wonderful,_ and if it hadn’t mattered to Charlie, I’d let her reach her climax right here, right now. Her sensual noises were stimulation enough for me, in all fairness. I needed nothing else to be content.

However, Charlie didn’t share that opinion – and started begging me to please, please, _please_ stop.

“Not like this,” she wheezed when I mercifully removed my hand from her dripping entrance. “Not today. You _jerk.”_

She frowned huffily at me and attempted to slap me in the face – but it landed on my jaw with a weak thud and caressed it instead.

“Jerk face,” she mumbled, her eyes soft and tender.

I had no choice then – I had to apologetically kiss her adorable, sweaty face, nuzzling into her equally moist neck right after.

“Forgive me, my dear. I simply – well. You sounded – you know. You were having fun.”

“I was,” Charlie said, patting my head. _“God_ I was. But Al – I want _you_ inside of me. And you know I don’t mean your fingers with that. I want – I want you to have sex with me, Alastor. If – if that is okay with you.”

“Of course, my love.”

She let out a relieved sigh. “You – you _do_ know… _how_ to, right?”

Well now.

I raised myself up from her a bit to give her a slightly insulted glare.

Charlie laughed nervously at that. “I-it’s just that… you know…”

“Hmmm?” I vaguely inquired as I now sat up, grabbed her by the waist and calmly dragged her towards my lower body. Speaking of my lower body, _especially_ my now erect member – it had become a foreign thing to me. It made me want something I didn’t even know I would _ever_ want – and yet, look at us now, here we are.

Now, I still didn’t know if this activity was something that was _doable_ for me. I was still unsure, to be fair. 

But I suppose I was about to find out 

Charlie, in the meantime, kept on rambling, while propping herself up on her elbows. She swallowed when she saw the promising position I was in, but still felt the need to explain herself. 

“…you… never did this before, so maybe you…”

“Don’t know what to do, right?” I spread her legs some more and lined her wet, inviting femininity up with my throbbing cock. “Since I never did this before. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes,” Charlie whispered, which she probably did for a multitude of reasons.

“Well,” I grunted, as I slowly started pushing myself into her – and felt my racing heart spontaneously skip a beat when I heard Charlie inhale _sharply,_ “maybe sex isn’t all that difficult, my love.”  
  


**AaA  
  
**

  
Wondrously enough, I had thought that everything would make sense, as soon as I had thoughtlessly put myself inside of Hell’s finest, most charming princess. That my body, no matter how inexperienced it was, instinctively would know what to do in this particular situation. It would have been grand if it had started moving on its own, back and forth, back and forth, making Charlie melt into a trembling, helpless pile of nothing but the most pleasurable ecstasy known to man, supposedly, and cry out my name over and over again. 

Because that’s what happened, in those magazines and movies. Isn’t that so? Angel Dust had once told me so, and why would he, the most notorious sex fiend I happened to know, lie about such a thing?

It didn’t happen, however.

Well, certainly: Charlie _did_ indeed shake, her hands clutching the bedding of the mattress and sweat pearling on her naked, beautiful curves and face – but she didn’t squirm around like she was going mad from the greatness of it all. In fact, she looked more _uncomfortable_ than anything else. 

Which was perfectly understandable, because I had _completely_ frozen up on her and plainly… sat there.

I wanted to go on, I did. But I didn’t know _how_ to continue. I truly was at a loss for words or actions here.

“…l!”

I was a fool for thinking I’d know what to do. I didn’t know _anything_ about it. 

“Al…!”

She did feel nice.

Charlie, that is.

She felt very, very nice.

How sad I had to disappoint her like— 

_“Al!”_ Charlie finally shouted loud enough to partially snap me out of my unusual daze. “Al – are you okay? Oh god – you’re _not_ okay. You’re – having a panic attack, aren’t you? Shit. Alright – just pull out, okay? It’s no big deal.”

But when Charlie tried to distance herself from me, I only gripped her hips harder and snapped her back against my pelvis, making the both of us utter a startled gasp.

“Alastor,” Charlie hoarsely said, “hey – it really is alright, you know? Y-you – ah – you don’t have to carry on. We can do this another time.”

“I want this,” I heard myself say in a low, strange tone. “But I seem to be in need of some… some assistance.”

Charlie gazed up at me, inhaling, exhaling. She was a mess, but it was a beautiful, empathic mess – I mess I felt comfortable with.

Because she did feel nice.

She just felt so nice. 

“Will you let me help you, then?” came Charlie’s friendly question – and I moved a bit to look at her. “I told you I’d happily give you guidance, remember? That offer still stands. You just – just need to trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Naturally,” I admitted, right away. 

She smiled. “Thank you. Okay then. Now, I need you to… come lay back on top of me. You can just… stay inside of me, if you move carefully enough. Come – come here. Take it easy.”

Charlie reached out her arms to me, in an almost pleading manner, and tried to persuade me with her beckoning fingers.

Instinctively, I began to lower myself on top of her again. I wanted, no, _needed_ to keep myself inside of her, for some bizarre reason – and so I made sure she wasn’t going anywhere as I moved. Charlie seemed to get that and helpfully clutched her thighs around my hips, no questions asked.

I finally settled down on top of her again, my face just a few inches away from Charlie’s. I didn’t quite know what to do with my arms at first, truthfully, but in the end, I just put them around her torso, leaning both her and my weight on my forearms as we laid there.

“Alright,” Charlie mumbled, collecting my face in her hands once again, and rubbed something from just underneath my eyes with a few smooth brushes of both her thumbs. “That’s better, right? Do you feel more at ease now?”

I nodded stiffly. “I suppose.”

She frowned slightly at that and I felt her lower body moving a little bit.

“Um, w-wow. Even after all that, you’re still… pretty, um, _eager.”_

“I told you I want this,” I said. “I wasn’t lying.”

“No you weren’t.” Charlie kept on moving her fingers over my face. “But anyway...”

“What is it?”

She chuckled. “Don’t _‘what is it?’_ me like you don’t know what I’m going to say, Al!”

“Was that an impression you did of my voice?” I flatly said.

“Yup.” 

“I do _not_ sound like that.”

“Yeah you do.” Charlie pressed a finger against my cheek. “You sound like an angry deer.”

“Charlie – do you even _know_ how an angry deer sounds?”

“Sure! I know how _you_ sound, after all.”

Annoyed, I wanted to give her a _very_ condescending, displeased look – but Charlie was too busy giggling and snickering at her own _awful_ attempt at humor to even notice. So I allowed myself to snort and laugh a bit along with her, finally feeling my tense muscles relax, somewhat.

After a short while, Charlie was the first to stop laughing. I only found out when her hands lowered themselves from my face to my neck and shoulders, giving me a soft squeeze.

“Hey, but for real, Al: are you okay now?”

“I am.” I smiled. “Thanks to you.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “I’m glad. You – you think you’re ready to continue? You know – _this?”_

She deliberately hugged her legs together, firmly and _tightly,_ making me stir deep inside of her.

I shuddered and gripped her body rigidly. “I believe I’m ready, yes. Do help me out a little, though.”

“I will.” Charlie said, taking a deep breath. “Okay, Al – it – it actually isn’t all that hard. You just… pull back a little and then push forward again.”

That sounded easy enough, so I did. 

Charlie let out a strange, yet oddly satisfying sound.

“Y-y-yeah, just – just like that, Al, just like that. One time, two times, three times…”

Again – I simply did what she said. And again, Charlie moaned, unabashed, gasping into my ear. 

“Anything else?” I asked.

Charlie swallowed heavily. “N-no, that’s it… that’s – ah – that’s really all there is to sex, I guess – you just… move and rock your body into the other one. Although – well – y-you can speed up a bit, if you want, and then slow down again, and then pull almost all of your dick out before just _snapping_ it right back into me, making me scream for—”

This time, I didn’t even let her finish and instantly began thrusting into her, exactly like she had described to me before. And this time, Charlie indeed responded like I had wanted her to respond all this time: trembling underneath me, wheezing against the skin of my neck as her nails started digging into my shoulders, her quiet and subdued whines getting louder and more desperate.

“Oh _god_ – _yes,_ Al – just like that – _just like that_ – ah – _oh_ – you – you’re doing – you’re doing great, A – Alastor…” 

It was intriguing how each hard, tenacious movement of my lower body forced Charlie to either take breaks between words or just cry them out, as if I literally pounded them out of her. 

It was very entertaining, oh _absolutely_ – it had been a long time since I had felt this energized and this motivated to bring something to a satisfying ending – and that wasn’t per se because of the act of making love to Charlie. 

No – it was the way _she_ was reacting to everything I did. From her dangling arms around my neck to her quivering legs, her body let me know Charlie was currently having the time of her life. Her heavenly voice, breathing hot, wet air against my throat, egging me on to please keep on going, keep on going, please don’t stop, oh god Al whatever you do don’t stop, nearly drove me over the edge. And my own, usually so composed body – it got bitten, scratched, kissed, drooled on, and passionate screams where suppressed against it, and it all felt so maddening _godly_ I could barely stand it. 

When Charlie’s already troubled breathing suddenly got faster – a whole lot faster, just like her mewls grew more and more vocal – I found myself to be gasping for air as well, chasing that phenomenon that was probably known as an orgasm just as frantic as Charlie was and then—

Well I don’t clearly remember the _last_ part, to be fair, but it involved a lot of clinging, twitching, animalistic groans and Charlie’s lips, afterwards, reaching up and kissing my chin with a tenderness I would _never_ be able to describe as perfectly as I had experienced it in my head, right at that moment. 

And then, when I had removed myself from her, I promptly fell asleep. 

Yes.

Wasn’t too proud of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another book I haven't read before! 'The Scarlet Letter' is one of those books that I really need to read one day - but when, right? I absolutely need to get some time off to read all of these interesting works already...  
> In this book, Hester, a young woman, gives birth to a baby. Nobody knows who the baby's father is, though, and the poor mother is forced to wear a red 'A' (for adultress) on her clothes from that day on. Since Hester refuses to say anything, a couple of men in the town she lives in get obsessed with finding out just who the father of the child is - and what follows is a pretty grim, psychological tale of sin and guilt. Not too happy ending, either.  
> Hawthorne's book is considered a true masterpiece nowadays, but it was challenged as well, because it was seen as pornographic and obscene.


	35. A Farewell to Arms (Ernest Hemingway)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie needs to get something out of the bathroom. Alastor spoils a part of _Pride and Prejudice_.

Okay!

Okay.

So… _that_ had happened.

Well it certainly had happened alright – it was a slow start, but the finish had been thrilling and pretty rough. I mean, I’d be amazed if I _wouldn’t_ have any bruises on my hips and… well, other parts of my lower regions tomorrow morning…

My clammy, now recovering body was aching in all sort of ways as I gritted my teeth and made myself sit up. It wasn’t a bad sort of ache, though. I _liked_ this kind of ache. It told me something _good_ had happened shortly before, something I _really_ enjoyed doing, and just a little bit of muscle pain wasn’t going to ruin the whole experience for me. 

I shivered involuntarily when I finally sat upright and found out I should have stayed underneath the covers. There also was still something like a throbbing inside of me, I happened to notice. It had been a long time ago since the last time I had slept with a male person, and my inner… sexual organs liked to remind me to the fact that males, most of the time, have a cock that they are _determined_ to use during sex. And pretty _ferociously,_ too.

Not that I have any complains about that, mind you… Depending on who I was dating, I was just as eager to enjoy the wonders of dicks as I was eager to find out more about playing around with clits and breasts. 

It’s just that – I couldn’t even _remember_ the last dick I had before Al. Was it Harold? Was it just some random guy? I had no idea, really. It didn’t actually matter, either. 

Wincing a bit, I pulled up my covers and stared down, suddenly realizing something.

…my god I had let him come inside of me, hadn’t I?

I almost never let somebody come inside of me. Not without this person at least having put on a condom or something. I mean, yeah, here in Hell, you couldn’t get or spread any sexual diseases for some hell-bound reason, and people down here _probably_ couldn’t get knocked up for that same reason either, but hey – _I_ had been born here, hadn’t I? And I was my mother’s child, so I’d better go take one of those emergency morning-after-pills I kept in my bathroom.

I mean… this hotel meant pretty much _everything_ for me. I had wanted it and strived for it for literal _decennia,_ and I wasn’t going to let _any_ tiny chance of something standing in the way of my life’s goal happen. So this was all nice and peachy, and sure, maybe one day, someday, if it was actually possible and if things still went alright between me and Al – sure, I’d… like to have his babies if he, too, felt like we should go for it – because w-why _not,_ right? Why not.

But not _here,_ not _now,_ and I knew if I wanted that pill to be the most effective, I needed to swallow that pill as quickly as I could. And the quickest way to get to my bathroom was by literally crawling over Alastor and get out of his side of the bed.

However, he was sleeping so _soundly_ now.

Over the past week, Al had been having a lot of troubles falling asleep – and _staying_ asleep. I knew he kept telling me he did sleep better than when he slept alone, but that didn’t mean he all of a sudden slept _good._ Just _better._ The bags underneath his eyes hadn’t magically disappeared after he started sleeping with me. Things didn’t work like that.

I looked over at Alastor’s sleeping figure – and I was pretty amazed to find that he had actually managed to find a way to _still_ lay down like a freaking mummy while he, at the same time, looked like the most peaceful creature I had ever spend the night with. So very _quiet_ and _at ease_. 

_I_ had that effect on him, I had to tell myself, and I felt myself grow a bit with pride and joy. 

Nice _job,_ Charlie! Not only had you sloppily yet effectively deflowered one of Hell’s most dangerous demons and overlords, you had also made him feel kind of all right about it!

I made him feel kind of _all right_ , people!

Well at least I _thought_ I had. I’d probably have to ask him about it later, just to be sure. I’d like to do it again with him, maybe this time without the long intervals (or _with_ – I kind of liked those, they made me feel on edge in the best possible way), but we’d have to talk about things. That was alright, though. I’d happily talk to him about things. We’d figure it out, for sure.

Gently and without giving it much thought, I reached out a hand to Al and stroke his reddish, blackish hair. It still felt a bit damp – and soft. 

Was I _seriously_ going to bluntly scrabble all over him and risk waking him up from, what seemed, a very deep and pleasant sleep?

No I wasn’t. 

So I sighed, turned the other way and crept to my own bedside, pushing aside the covers and attempting to slowly glide out of bed…

…only for the sore muscles in my left calf to suddenly _cramp up_ – and I was able to stifle a cry of pain as I crashed down on my carpet, face first.

Ow ow ow _ow!_

Flopping to my side, I held back the _many_ profanities I wanted to hiss through my teeth and kind of stayed where I was, hoping that the painful, pulling feeling that was currently stretching the shit out of my calf’s muscles would subdue if I just didn’t move around too much. I took some comfort in the fact that the fall on the floor hadn’t been too loud, so Al probably wouldn’t have woken up because of m—

“What are you doing down there, my dear?”

Oh, come _on!_

Still in pain, I looked up – and yes, Alastor was awake now, watching me in sleepy wonder.

“H-hi Al,” I stuttered. “Nothing’s wrong here! I just wanted to get out of bed – and then my leg muscle cramped up – and now I’m dying. But it’s ebbing away already, so you just go back to sleep – I’ll be right back!”

He stared at my strained grin and then moved away from my side of the bed. For a moment, I thought he had really gone back to sleep – which I would have approved, really – but then I heard him get out of his side and the rustling of clothes. As the pain really did reduce, I sat up again and wanted to stubbornly try and get up before Al would get to me – but then one of my fluffy duvets was wrapped around me, and I was suddenly picked up from the carpet and held up high.

I huffed and crossed my arms above the duvet as he gave me an amused smile.

“…why didn’t you listen?”

 _“Please,_ Charlie. Did you honestly believe I was simply going to obey to that ridiculous request of yours? You _wound_ me, my love!” He teasingly patted my head. “I might be not the most understanding of all demons, but even I know it’s bad manners to let your beautiful sweetheart thrash about in agony like that.”

“It was just a muscle cramp – not a _stroke,”_ I pointed out, blushing a bit because of the ‘beautiful sweetheart’ part. “And, like I said, it was ebbing away already. I’m fine now – you can put me down and go back to sleep.”

“Oh I _know_ I can, absolutely. I’m not going to, though.”

“You’re not, huh.” I sighed.

He shook his head. “No. I apologize for that. So! Where were you heading at?”

“There.” I pointed a finger at my bathroom and clutched the duvet with my other hand. “I – I need to get my pill.”

“Your pill?” Alastor asked, while he started walking towards the bathroom. 

“Y-yeah. My morning-after-pill.”

“What is a morning-after-pill?”

Crap.

Of _course_ he didn’t know.

I took some bangs of my hair, playing around with them. “It’s… it’s a pill women can swallow after having practiced unsafe sex. It kind of helps with preventing pregnancy.”

“The _devil_ you say!” Alastor sounded genuinely impressed. “My, it seems like the world and all of its inhabitants just keep on evolving themselves. A mere _pill_ that can prevent pregnancy! My horizon has been expanded once more!”

I didn’t really know what I had expected from Alastor upon him hearing I wanted to use the morning-after-pill – disappointment, relief, disapproval, maybe even some hurt confusion – but this comedic, curious reaction was probably the _best_ of all possible reactions, and I took a breath, chuckling. 

“You should get out more, Al. There are a _lot_ of things that have been discovered and invented ever since your death.”

“Oh, certainly.” Alastor got the both of us inside the bathroom and put me on the edge of the bathtub, even carefully rearranging the duvet so it was easier for me to hold on to it. “But I enjoy taking my time while discovering new subjects and bits of information, my dear. As you no doubt have realized, ever since our latest… ahem, activities. Now, where is this pill of yours?”

I chuckled again when I saw some color appearing on his neck. “That little closet above the sink – it’s in a blue package, I think?”

Alastor patiently rummaged through the closet, and with his back turned to me, I took the opportunity to _lewdly_ gaze at him. He had put on his pants again, which was kind of a shame, but his torso was still naked and couldn’t escape my wandering eyes. I let them move _allllllll_ over him. 

He really was but a slender man, wasn’t he? _Lean,_ too. Thin and lean. And covered in darkened and white, big and small, forgotten and not-so-forgotten scars. 

They were all over his body, I had seen this night – not just on his upper body. His legs and neck, too. The old wounds were everywhere – and it kind of made me understand why he wore so many layers of clothing. I wondered if they were all from that moment in time where he was about to reach the ending of his human life. I didn’t know much about that… only that Al was pretty annoyed by the way _how_ he died. Not mortified or traumatized, no – _annoyed._ Like a mean boy that had wanted to get a big punishment for something he had done wrong, but instead hadn’t gotten any. 

Al was weird like that.

By the way, those long, curved, bloody scratches on his shoulder blades looked pretty new – oh god, and _painful,_ too! Had they even been treated already? Since when did he have—

Oh.

“Here you go, Charlie dear – a glass of water and your morning-after-pill-thingamajig. You were right, it was the blue package after all. And what are you doing _now?”_

Al sounded endeared, maybe even _charmed,_ and probably must have looked at me funnily when he wanted to hand me over the water and the pill and found me concealing my red-hot face in both my hair _and_ my duvet in everything-consuming embarrassment.

“Nothinhj,” I mumbled.

Alastor let out a laugh and I heard him putting away the items he carried. Then he took my face in his hands, raising it from its hiding place. It was flushed, and slightly ashamed, and also kind of sweaty, with some strands of hair sticking to it.

“What did you say?” he asked, calmly plucking the hair from my cheeks.

“God Al, I’m so sorry. I scratched open your back,” I whispered. “It’s even bleeding a bit.”

He blinked. “My back? When did you – oh. Ah. I see.”

“Does… does it hurt?”

Alastor needed some time to process the fact I had clawed my nails into him during sex and stiffly handed over the glass of water and the pill in response.

“I don’t mind it,” he finally decided, almost officially.

I laughed nervously and downed the pill. “Took you some time to reach that conclusion, though.”

“Well I usually don’t take too kindly to people hurting me or trying to hurt me in any possible way,” he explained. “But _you_ – well – you _know_ I don’t mind when _you_ – I mean – you can.”

I smiled warmly at him and pressed the side of the glass against my face. “Because you love me, right?”

He collected himself again and smiled down at me, nodding ever so slightly. “Yes, my dear. Because I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I nodded to the little cabinet above the sink. “Could you get the iodine and maybe a few wet cloths and band-aids? I’ll treat those scratches for you.” 

He grinned. “Because you love me, isn’t that so?”

I gave him another big smile. “Yes, darling. Because I love you.”

I wish I could explain just how pleased, embarrassed and sort-of overwhelmed Alastor looked after that, or how much I had to watch myself from accidentally falling backwards into the tub because I was wiggling around so much from the awkward fuzziness of it all.

But it really wouldn’t have been descriptive enough. 

Let’s just say that the softly-mumbled “I love you, too” Alastor got out before he went to get the things I had told him to collect almost made me jump him and hug him to the ground.

Almost, though.

Almost.  
  


**CcC**   
  


A while later, we both laid back in bed again – which was made all tidy, and fresh, and not riddled with some hints of our sexy times earlier that night, because a couple of moments earlier, Alastor had made the bed with a swift snap of his fingers. 

He had done that as a thank-you for me, tending his scratched back in the bathroom, he said. I had hand-waved his gratefulness away, stammering that I hadn’t even done all that much, really: just carefully dabbed the blood off, put some iodine on them and the most deep ones were patched up with a few band-aids. Nothing more, nothing less. No big deal.

“To me it is,” Al had said, giving me that one specific, steadfast, kind smile he wore so well.

I had felt thoroughly complimented, my cheeks blooming heavily, and I muttered something like “well okay then I guess”. Then, I put on my PJ’s as well (I mean, I didn’t mind being naked, but it was getting a bit chilly) and we folded back the sheets to climb back into bed again. I put out the little lamps on the nightstands this time – because that’s right, I had forgotten to kill the lights _before_ we got it on – and when the room was finally enveloped in the comforting darkness of the night, I started to think about Alastor’s confession, at the beginning of it all.

Smoothly, Alastor’s hand took hold of one of my arms, pulling me against him in an awkward, yet kindly-meant fashion. I gladly let him and immediately wrapped my arms around his chest, pressing a few smooches against his skin. I could feel him jolt a bit at that, but it was only for a moment, before he’d relax again and began to run his fingers through my hair.

I raised my face, pressing my chin against his chest. “Hey Al – can I ask you something?”

“You just did – but go on right ahead, my love,” he said.

“That thing you said in the beginning. You remember?”

“…I’m not sure?”

I hooked my fingers together behind Al’s back, closing my eyes for a second. “In vain, I have struggled. It will not do.”

Alastor didn’t respond, apart from the slightly uncomfortable sound of him, clearing his throat.

I grinned. “You were pulling a page 171 on me, didn’t you?”

A resigned sigh. “Yes. I… yes. That was indeed what was on page 171. How did you know?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t, actually, it just… sounded like something Mr. Darcy would say to Lizzy.”

There was a short pause, in which I could hear Al’s radio noise crackle and buzz thoughtfully. It had been a while since the last time I had heard those sounds play up. I didn’t know whether I liked that or kind of missed that.

“May I… spoil some of _Pride and Prejudice_ for you, Charlie?” Alastor then asked.

I nodded, realized he wouldn’t be able to understand that, and said “yes”.

“It was the first attempt Darcy did to try and get Elizabeth to understand just how much he wanted to be with her,” Al quietly started to explain, his hands leaving the top of my head. “He had fallen in love with her – but he hadn’t wanted to. He _loathed_ her family, especially her overbearing mother, but he could no longer fool himself: he had to tell her he loved her in spite of all that, and that he wanted to be with her always.”

I could feel Al’s hands landing on my back. My vest had started to ride up again – and I snickered a bit when I felt he politely tugged my clothes back down again.

“What did Lizzy say to him?” I wanted to know.

“Why, she _rejected_ him, of course,” Al said. “Darcy had not only offended _her,_ but also the people she cared about the most. To Elizabeth, it was like Darcy had said ‘you’re the only decent thing your good-for-nothing-family has to offer’ – and that hurt Elizabeth deeply. So she told him she despised him and that she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.”

“Oh,” I mumbled.

“Hm-hm,” Al hummed knowingly. “It’s not a very happy moment in the story. In fact, it’s rather heart-breaking, especially since Elizabeth starts to realize she has fallen for Darcy as well, shortly after.”

“Is there any special reason why you chose that particular scene for… confessing to me?” I asked.

“Oh, my dear Charlie!” Alastor laughed and tightened his hold around me, hugging me. “More than you can imagine. Rather embarrassing reasons, too. I would like it if you’d allow me to keep these ridiculous reasons for myself.”

I hugged him back, enjoying his warm embrace. “That’s alright, Alastor… I think I kind of get it.”

“Good,” he said, sighing in relief.

I yawned and cuddled even closer to him. The steady heartbeat in his chest was almost as melodious as the radio songs he played every once in a while. 

“Let’s sleep some more, Al.”

I could feel him settling his head on top of mine. “A wonderful idea, my dear. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night to you, too. And, uhm, Al…” I gripped his vest for a bit, internally encouraging myself to carry on. “…thank you. For your words. For your heart. For this night. For your understanding. For everything you have done for me, up to this point. Thank you, m-my darling. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

I was able to hear a softly-spoken “My pleasure”, and then I dozed off into a deep, delightful sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think 'A Farewell to Arms' is one of the most depressing tales I have ever read (not THE most depressing one, though - the next chapter's title is the name of the book I found most depressing of all).  
> The book's about an American paramedic named Frederic who serves in the Italian army. Thanks to a good friend, he gets to know the lovely nurse Catherine. She's cute and although Frederic only fools around with her in the beginning, he quickly falls in love with her for real and after he gets wounded and has to be taken care of by Catherine, the two get very close - Catherine even gets pregnant. When Frederic is released out of the hospital and turns back to his unit, everything pretty much goes to shit. Everything, everything, everything. I don't even want to tell you what horrible things poor Frederic and Catherine have to go through - and there's no happy ending, for no-one. This book is brutally sad.  
> 'A Farewell to Arms' was banned in Italy because of it's 'painfully accurate account' of the Italian retreat from Caporetto. It was also one of the books that got burned by the Nazis.


	36. The Metamorphosis (Franz Kafka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie wants to make Alastor breakfast. Angel Dust has changed a bit - and he's not the only one.

I woke up the next morning with my face kind of _smooshed_ against Al’s back. My arms were wrapped around him awkwardly, one tossed over his neck and the other one lying right under him. The one underneath Al felt numb and awfully prickly at the same time – it probably was the reason I had woken up in the first place. 

Groaning a bit because of the unpleasant sensation, I managed to get my tingling arm free and rolled on my back for a bit, yawning and waiting for the feeling to ease away. As I laid there, I wondered what I should do now. 

It was morning already – probably not too late, but not too early, either. I didn’t feel like going to sleep again, just for that one single hour I most likely had to spare before having to get out of bed. I looked over to Al’s back, turned towards me, and at first I was surprised to see he even had another sleeping position to start with. 

Just look: apparently, he could sleep on his side as well!

I suddenly felt overcome with the need to cuddle Alastor – so I squished myself against his body once again and nuzzled the skin of the back of his neck. That’s when I got surprised for a second time that morning: Alastor mumbled something at that, but didn’t give me any other signs that indicated he actually was awake. 

So he _wasn’t_ awake! 

I pressed a kiss down his neck and that’s when I knew what I should do, now that I had some time to spare and a lover to spoil.

I should make him breakfast.

Oh my god – that was… that was like _insanely_ cutesy. Maybe a bit _too_ cutesy. I felt my face burning up as I imagined coming back into the bedroom with a tray filled with food, and Al sitting up in bed with this deer-caught-in-headlights-expression on his face, trying to figure out what the hell I was doing, bringing food to bed like some low-born peasant.

_“Am… am I supposed to **eat** this? In **bed**? What **madness!”**_

I snorted a bit at that, I couldn’t help it. 

Although he’d presumably find it very strange, I bet he’d like the gesture – and maybe, he’d do the same for me, the next time we’d… uhm… _get together_ like this. 

Right! 

And with that, I knew what I had to do. 

Carefully, I distanced myself from Alastor and got out of the bed as quietly as I could. I wanted to take a shower, first (come on, I _needed_ a shower after everything that had happened the night before), so I silently padded towards the bathroom. My body felt kind of heavy and it _hurt,_ like I had expected it would, but I really couldn’t care less. My mind had prepared a very excited to-do-list, after all, and I knew I wouldn’t stop feeling this rush of adrenaline until I had walked through all of it.   
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
I felt a whole lot better after I got out of the shower and got dressed. It was like the start of a new beginning – which was kind of silly, really. Nothing had really changed after all, except for the fact that Al and I had finally consummated our relationship. It set a couple of things in stone, if you asked me, and—

Oh my god – did this mean we were an official couple now? It did, didn’t it? Oh _god!_

Oh – maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I needed to confirm this with Alastor, first. I mean… I-I was pretty sure we were together now, since he admitted to love me, too, but still: conformation is important. I’d tell him after I had gotten him some breakfast, because when I re-entered the still-dark bedroom, nothing told me Alastor had woken up in the meantime.

He probably was catching up to all those lost hours from the past couple of days, wasn’t he?

I smiled as I looked over to Al’s sleeping figure – I noticed he had turned to lay on his back again, like it was his default sleeping position and he always got right back to that specific position the minute I’d let go of him – and then, I tiptoed out of the bedroom.  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
Walking around in the hotel when there was nobody else who would walk with me always felt a bit lonely. The hotel was a big, spacious building, capable to hold at least 100 sinners at most, and therefore the red hallways, many, diverse rooms and high windows most of the time made the place feel somewhat desolate when everybody was – I don’t know, gone off somewhere, or still sleeping, or literally anywhere else, except for the place I where I was.

I didn’t mind it too much this time, though. It felt nice be on my own for a little while and enjoy the quiet sounds of the empty corridors, as I thought about what my day would look like.

Well – I’d bring Alastor breakfast in bed, of course, and I’d join in on the eating, too (I mean, I had a pretty big appetite in the morning and I bet Alastor didn’t have that, judging on his slim figure and everything – so I’d have to help him with it!). We’d eat, and then I’d tell Al to go and take a shower already, and as he showered, I’d clean up the leftovers and go to the library.

I liked working in the library, it was a lot of fun and it felt nice to help Alastor out. It made him happy – and that made me happy. Feeling Al’s appreciative gaze rest on me as I offered a sinner some tea, relishing in the casual touch of his hand somewhere on my back – too polite to be seductive, but too low to be just friendly – as he tried to tell me where I should get this one book he needed and simply standing on the tips of my toes to interrupt him mid-sentence with a swift peck on his lips – I greatly enjoyed doing all of those things!

Plus, I got to get to know more sinners I most of the time hardly interacted with. 

For example, I now knew Reggie, the lizard-demon from room 211 (second floor), a whole lot better. Reggie loved reading extremely old-fashioned, dramatic books about impossible, star-crossed lovers, because his sickly, bedridden wife used to read them all the time. His wife currently was in Heaven, by the way. He wasn’t ready yet to tell me why _she_ was _there_ while _he_ was… well, _here,_ but he had promised me he would tell me one day.

And Leonard – Leonard had been a wealthy, snobbish noble in life who was so very rich and arrogant that he ended up alienating all of his friends and family members. Eventually, he died in an eerie and lonely way, choking in a tasty piece of beef angus – and he was found face-first in his rotting food by his working lady a week later, when she returned from her vacation. He didn’t especially like reading, he told me – he just liked being in a room with people that actually tolerated him and did the same thing he did. Almost like he had friends, he told me with a wry laugh.

And these were just two stories – well, _parts_ of two stories – of the many, many stories that silently stashed themselves away in-between the walls of my hotel.

I had never known beforehand just how amazing this library could be, or how much it could mean to other people. It baffled me – and it made me realize Alastor’s plan had been working all along. It had been a slow process, but it was process nevertheless – and I was so very proud of Al to have been able to think of this plan in the first place!

Just think about all the sinners he had inadvertently helped out in some way so far!

Still – in spite of all this, we’d probably have to talk about how to carry on. Because, well, I couldn’t keep on strutting around the library like I had nothing better to do. 

I mean, like I said, I liked doing this, but I actually had more things to do. Administration and the like. Making sure our residents got plenty of food. You know – managing the hotel and stuff. Niffty and Vaggie had been having a pretty sweet time for the past couple of days as well, but I needed them to pick up their tasks as well, eventually. We couldn’t keep on spending all of our time in the library and count on Husk to handle all the other things.

Husk was the best, by the way. Just like most of the hotel’s tenants, he had lost interest in reading books as soon as Alastor had put him to the test (he had _passed_ the test – barely, but still). But when I told him I would be helping Al in the library for a couple of days, he had promised me he’d keep things in check. It was the least he could do, he had grumbled when I asked him if that really was okay. He probably still felt guilty about blurting my secret out to Alastor.

It was about time to stop depending on the cat demon and think about what to do with the library, though. So – that was one of the very important duties I wanted to do today.

And after we had discussed that, we’d probably eat some dinner, and then go to bed, and I didn’t even want Alastor to screw me silly tonight – I just wanted to be happy in his arms and close my eyes and think of this day as a very productive one, and then I’d go to sleep.

So, like: breakfast – cleaning up – library – important talk – decisions – dinner – bedtime. In that order.

It was a nice, neat order – I liked it! Way to go, Charlie!

Feeling very pleased with myself and everything I had – just now! – planned to do today, I entered the kitchen…

…only to stumble upon Angel Dust, raiding the refrigerator in the dark.  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
“Hiya, toots,” Angels Dust greeted me with full mouth, chomping down on a piece of cold chicken leg. “Yer outta bed early.”

“So are you,” I countered, frowning as I put on the lights.

He shrugged, narrowing his eyes to tiny little slits as the bright light illuminated the entire room. “Eh, I was hungry – and what does a guy do when he’s hungry, huh? That’s right, he gets something to nibble on!”

I watched him taking a seat at the round kitchen table. Something felt… _off_ about him – I just couldn’t put my finger on it, though. 

“You look like a mess, Angel,” I commented. “Did you sleep well tonight?”

“Nope. Slept like two hours or so.” He stared blankly at me – it seemed like he was just being an aloof, annoying jerk, as always, but his eyes had this almost _encouraging_ shine to them.

Giving him a worried look, I quickly pulled a tray out of one of the kitchen’s cabinets. I also collected a nice-looking placemat, a plate, cutlery and a simple, big mug. After putting all of that down on the table, I focused my attention on the spider demon again.

“Is everything alright with you, Angel? Is there something you need to tell me, or something you want me to do? Or—”

He cut me off with a bored groan and raised up from his chair. “Yea yea – whatever. Before you go all mother hen on me, Charlie – the hell are _you_ up to?”

I felt my smile stiffening. “W-what do you mean?”

“Wha—don’t you ‘ _wHutcHa MeAn_ ’ me, blondie – I’m not _that_ stupid!” He got to where I was in, oh, two steps or so, and squinted his eyes at the tray before me. I instinctively flinched as I could almost _hear_ the realization dawning upon him.

“Hey, Charlie?”

“Y-yeah?”

“That’s a cute little breakfast tray you’re preparing there.”

“Oh. T-thank you?”

“Yeah. Very nice.”

“I—”

“You fucked the deer man last night, didn’t you.”

I winced and looked away. “U-uhm…”

“Oh my _god,_ you _totally_ fucked the deer man.”

“I-I… we… yes.”

“I fucking _knew_ it!” Angel snickered and smacked me on the back, almost making me trip and crash my face into the table. “Dammit, no wonder you look so irritatingly _giddy_ – you’ve been cashing in Al’s sacred V-card – you’ve ridden his dick all the way to the moon and back – and now you’re making him _breakfast,_ like a _girl!”_

I blushed and fidgeted with my hair. “I _am_ a girl.”

“No – you’ve tapped Al’s asexual ass. That’s like climbing a mountain in the nude: _very_ dangerous and potential life-threatening, unless you know _exactly_ what you’re doing. You’re no mere girlie, Charlie – you’re a sexy, demon-eating beast, _that’s_ what'cha are.” Angel grinned broadly and sat his sassy butt down on the table. “Well done, my lady – _very_ well done!”

I had no idea what to say and just stood there, twirling my hair around, feeling both embarrassed as I felt kind of… _proud?_ I don’t know, it was a weird feeling.

“And? How was he?” Angel nudged me. “Come on, you can tell me…”

I hate to admit it, but I didn’t need any more egging on, really.

“He… he was really clumsy. Clumsy, clueless and kind of helpless. He had no idea what he was doing and accidentally hurt me more often than was needed. It was weird and uncomfortable at times and…” 

I remembered how determined Al was to make me happy – how careful he tried to be, how awkward he was. I shut up and put my hands to my burning cheeks. 

Angel Dust took a look at my face – and scoffed.

“Jesus Christ. You fucking _enjoyed_ every single, stumbling _minute_ of it, didn’t you?” 

I nodded and shyly rubbed my face, unable to do or say anything else.

“You had bad sex with a virgin and you loved it.” Angel Dust shivered. “Man, people in love creep me the fuck out. But good for you, I guess. Congrats on the sex.”

“Thank you very much,” I smiled.

He nodded. “I’ll make sure to tell Al he did a good dicking. A very good _bad_ dicking.”

“Oh god _please_ don’t.”

Angel Dust laughed a bit more, only to suddenly quiet down his laughter. My happy mood kind of deflated with his own, slowly disappearing smile and I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to make eye-contact.

“Okay Angel – now that I told you about me and Alastor, I think it’s time you told me about what’s going on with _you._ That’s only fair, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, so now yer gonna guilt-trip me into telling you what’s new? What, you think yer awkward, fluffy virgin-sex-night with the Radio Demon is _worthy_ of my grandiose secret?”

“I’ll give you some smutty details about Al’s dick.” 

“So I’ve got like two arms all of a sudden,” Angel instantly said, stretching two of his arms. “Ya see?”

I nodded, gesturing him to carry on talking.

“That’s it,” he said.

I made a face. “That’s really it? You think I’m going to give you more info on Alastor for _that?_ For god’s sake, Angel, you _fraud!”_

Angel waved his arms around. “No, no, you don’t get it – when I say that’s it, I really _mean_ that’s it – I don’t have _any more_ arms!”

“So – just these two?”

“Yes!” Angel sounded a bit out of breath. “Just these two! Look at my body – just _look_ at it! You can tell, can’t you? There aren’t any more arms hidden there! There’s _nothing_ there anymore!”

I looked at him, skeptical. “Angel, I _know_ you can retract all of your arms at will. You can’t fool me.”

“I’m _telling_ you there _aren’t_ any more arms _left!”_ His voice now got a desperate tone. “Charlie, I swear – I – I think parts of me got removed for more reason and I’m so _scared_ right now.”

Those words caught me off guard and I stepped back a bit. 

I wasn’t able to figure out whether Angel Dust was lying or telling the truth. In all honesty, it sounded like a big, weird, unfunny joke – and I knew Angel was a big fan of those kind of japes. But I also knew Angel didn’t bother carrying on with a joke if he felt people really didn’t like it – plus, he looked like he was being absolutely serious about this. No, he looked like he was about to _break down_.

“Angel,” I started – but before I could say anything more, Vaggie and Niffty peeked their heads into the kitchen.

And then all Angel and I could do was stare at them.

“Oh, it’s just Charlie and Angel, thank _god,”_ Vaggie said, opening the door some more and sounding relieved. “I was on my way to drop something off at the office when I noticed the lights in the kitchen were on – thought somebody was causing some problems, you know, maybe I had to take out my spear and everything. But since it’s only you guys, I guess I was worried for nothing.” 

“And I’m here to carry her spear!” Niffty grinned, proudly waving Vaggie’s weapon around. “Carrying Vaggie’s spear! Carrying Vaggie’s spear!”

Vaggie rolled her eye and gently put a fisted hand on Niffty’s head, giving the smaller girl a light bump. “Stop that.”

Angel and I waited for a couple of seconds, hoping that the two young women would explain themselves eventually – but when they both were about to head out again, Angel stopped them, as subtly and effectively as he could be. 

“Hey hey hey now _wait_ a minute!” He _threw_ himself from the table to the door in a matter of split-seconds and firmly shut it, pointing a finger at both Vaggie and Niffty in turns. _“Don’t_ tell me you were just planning on dropping in, looking like _that,_ before leaving just as breezily without giving me and the princess here _any_ commentation on what the hell happened to you two!”

Vaggie raised a brow, before boorishly running a hand through her shorter, now-black hair. “Oh – you mean this? Yeah, I kind of woke up looking like this. I forgot.”

Angel’s jaw dropped. “What? How can you just _forget_ to mention you all of a sudden look like a spicy _mamacita,_ woman?”

“You _watch_ it, spider slut.” Vaggie growled and glared at him. “This is just what my hair used to look like when I was still alive – so it’s not all that new to _me.”_

I kept on looking at Vaggie’s hair, somewhat shorter and almost pitch-black. It was totally different from her usual hairdo. It suited her well, I had to say – but why had she woken up like that? What was going on?

I wanted to ask her – but I got distracted by Niffty, who had moved to stand right in front of me and now impatiently pulled on my shirt.

“Look look,” she excitedly said as she deliberately spread her one eye open wide, “this is my _actual_ eye-color not bad, right??”

Startled, I felt my heart pounding against my ribcage just a tad harder and faster when I stared into Niffty’s single, uncannily realistic human eye. It didn’t have anything demonic anymore – there was no trace of her usual red-and yellow eye-color. It was just a… huge, white eyeball, with a bright blue ring in the middle of it and a black pupil in the middle of the ring.

“You… also woke up like that?” I managed to stammer.

“Yea well I guess?” Niffty shrugged. “I don’t mind it though! I can dig it!”

“Oh _I_ can dig that unholy orb of yours as well, Niffty – like one-trillion miles _underneath the fucking floor!_ What the actual _fuck_ is _up_ with that thing!” Angel exclaimed. “It’s shit like _that_ that keeps me awake at night!”

“I thought all of the dicks you offer yourself to did,” Vaggie remarked.

“Don’t even let me get started on _you,_ Wicked Bitch of the West.”

 _“What_ did you call me?!” 

Too perplexed by all of this, I didn’t try to stop their quarrel and gripped my face in severe confusion, ogling Angel Dust, Vaggie and Niffty, carefully observing their changed appearances as they bickered with each other and paid me no attention. 

So, let me get this straight…

Vaggie had her former hairdo back. 

Niffty’s eye had lost its demonic touch.

And Angel claimed he no longer had two extra pairs of arms.

They all had changed appearances – and they all seemed to have lost a part of their hellish deformities overnight. 

Could this be… did this mean…?

Was it working? Alastor’s plan – was it actually _working?_

Elated, I now _smacked_ both of my hands in my face and withheld an overjoyed yelp. I could even feel my eyes tearing up a bit as I slowly but surely began to comprehend what this drastic change in appearances probably meant. 

This was it, wasn’t it? The beginning. It was happening. 

It was actually _happening!_

“Charlie?” I heard Vaggie’s concerned question, as she put a hand on my back. “What are you doing? Is everything oka—”

 _“Yes!”_ I almost shouted, throwing my arms around her to give her the biggest bear-hug I could muster, and laughed out loud. “Yes, Vaggie, everything is okay! Everything is _more_ than okay! Oh my god – I’m so happy! I’m so incredibly _happy!”_

Vaggie was taken by surprise by my abrupt action and kindly let me hold her for a little while – but then she gently grabbed me by the arms and pushed me back a bit, smiling weakly at me.

“So – you think this is it, huh?”

“Yeah!” I said. “Yeah – I know, it, I just _know_ it, Vag – this is it! You’re – you’re getting redeemed! It’s just a start, but – but it IS a start!”

“Do you know for _sure,_ though?”

“No! I… um, no.” Vaggie let go of me and I thought about her comment for a while. Then I felt my smile light up again and I pulled out my phone. 

“I know – I’ll call my dad! Dad was an angel – he probably knows how redeeming works! He might even recognize the, you know, symptoms and everything! I’ll go do that _right_ now!”

I was pretty sure Vaggie said something serious in response to that, and Angel Dust presumably made an off-hand, snarky remark about the morbidity of calling the signs you’re getting redeemed ‘symptoms’, and Niffty also blabbered on about something, I’m sure – but I didn’t hear any of that anymore, only the wild rushing of my blood in my ears as I hastily left the kitchen and dialed my father’s number.

Of course, because I paid no mind to where I was going, I immediately crashed into somebody as I sprinted out of the door. Two unknown, male hands tried to take hold of me before I fell on the ground, but the hands were to late – and I inelegantly landed on my butt. It was a good thing I didn’t drop my phone!

“Sorry,” I wheezed, chuckling and looking up, “I’m so sorry I walked into you, mister, I was just so very—”

The letters and the words they were supposed to form instantly got stuck in my windpipe, or so it seemed, as I stopped breathing for a second at exactly the same time.

He looked down at me, tilting his head to the side in puzzled amusement.

His hair was shorter and brown.

His left eye appeared to be a _human_ eye.

His hands didn’t look like claws anymore.

And his teeth weren’t sharp nor yellow anymore.

It were so many changes.

Why did he have so many changes?

My heart, that was beating overtly excitedly in my chest just a little while ago, seemed to plummet right into my stomach, crashing down, clenching itself together most painfully.

“Al,” I managed, while my hands gripped the ground, as if they were looking for something to hold on to. “Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Metamorphosis' was the very first book of my Forbidden Book-collection I read. If you've already read this chapter, I think you'll know why I waited so long to use it.  
> Anyway, this book is about a young man named Gregor Samsa, who one day wakes up in the body of a giant insect. He can no longer speak with his parents and sister, who live in the same house as he does, and who were very depended of him (for some reason, Gregor is the family's sole breadwinner). While Gregor himself actually doesn't really mind his new body, his family is horrified and have a lot of trouble accepting him, now that he's become useless to them. Eventually, Gregor overhears them talking about how they should get rid of 'it', understands that he's no longer loved or wanted and dies. Just like that.  
> This is the most depressing book I've ever read. It's so, so very sad, and poor Gregor deserved so much more than this lonely, awful ending he got…  
> This book is Kafka's most well-known work. It was banned under the Nazi and Soviet regimes, because critics found the story too 'decadent' and 'despairing'.


	37. As I Lay Dying (William Faulkner)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie makes an announcement about the changes some sinners have been going through. Vaggie observes some things.

Charlie didn’t return to the kitchen after she left to call her father. 

And I firstly didn’t think too much about it: that was to be expected, her father, Hell’s ruler, probably had a thing or two, three to tell his daughter about redemption and ‘bettering’ demons and stuff, and so her conversation with Lucifer would take a lot more time than a simple two-minute-chat. Also, maybe they wanted to catch up on things. I knew for a fact Charlie hadn’t personally spoken to her parents in a long time. Maybe she now finally was able to tell her dad about something that would possibly make him proud of her? 

Who knows, really? I hoped that was the case. Charlie had gone through enough shit already – it was about time the girl got a break.

Yeah.

That was my first thought – my first naive reasoning why Charlie didn’t return to the kitchen. 

Then Alastor walked in.

Looking like a half-humane, half-demonic monstrosity.

While Angel Dust immediately started pestering the Radio Demon with his crazy appearance and also congratulated him with all the ‘bad sex’ he had with Charlie the night before (and man isn’t it always such a _treat_ to hear others talk how your dear ex-lover totally boned her new partner into oblivion) and Niffty just _ignored_ Alastor and kept on staring at her own reflection (with the handy help of a spoon), I felt my blood run cold.

If Charlie was right about this…

If Alastor’s weird book scheme really _had_ helped out in some ways…

If we indeed had gotten even _one_ single baby step closer to redemption…

Things were about to change in the hotel.

And I wasn’t sure if that was in a _good_ way.  
  


  
**VvV  
  
**

  
Although Charlie didn’t return, she _did_ send me a text message a little while later. 

It was a message that appeared to have been sent to all of the hotel’s residents, sinners and co-workers that bothered to come to the library during the day:  
  


_“Dear visitors of the library on the fourth floor!_

_Last night, something truly amazing happened to a few of you:_   
_You changed a bit!_   
_Maybe your hair looks different now, or you’re missing a few limbs, wings or tentacles, or you suddenly have our very own humane belly button back again._

_You wish to know what has happened to you, no doubt._   
_Well, after discussing the matter with my father, Lucifer, I may be able to provide you with the answers you’re looking for._

_If you want to know more about this and/or wish to hear what I have to say about the situation you’re currently in, please make sure you’re in the library at 1 PM today!_

_I’ll see you there!_

_With kind regards,_

_Charlie”_

  
I smiled wryly as I looked at the way she ended the message. Still stubbornly refusing to use your full and surname, huh Charlie? Damn. I sometimes forgot just how much Charlie longed to be accepted and seen as an equal by the many dwellers of Hell. She was a princess, sure, no-one could – or dared – to deny that, but she never really acted as one. She wanted to be ‘one of the guys’, even though she would _never_ be one of the guys, because of how nice she was.

Not _all_ of her.

But, like, 80% of her.

And that was, like, a _truckload_ of niceness. She was part demon, but her dad’s angelic genes were a lot more dominant than her mother’s sinful ones. Partly because of that, life in Hell certainly hadn’t been very kind to her.

Still, she tried her best for all of us, her ungrateful subjects. That was especially apparent right now, now that people who had started to read books and become a bit friendlier in the process had woken up with somewhat changed forms and panic in their hearts about what was happening to them.

Charlie was such a sweetheart, really. Such a kind person with such a big heart.

Naturally she was bound to get hurt in the process.

Dammit.

Dammit dammit _dammit.  
  
_

  
**VvV  
  
**

  
Of course, Angel, Niffty and I were the first to arrive in the library later that day – and it was also very natural we were sitting in the front row. 

Not that _that_ was all that impressive, really: probably around twenty sinners were visiting the library on a regular base nowadays, so there were like four small rows of different seats and chairs that had gotten hastily prepared and put next to one another when we entered the library around the pre-arranged time.

Charlie was sitting at the desk, still fanatically reading a piece of paper that, presumably, had the lines written on it she was planning to tell all of us. Alastor was right at her side, leaning over her focused, concentrated body and pointing out a few things she shouldn’t forget to mention, most likely. 

I mean – I had been in that position as well, not even all too long ago. It felt strange seeing Alastor picking up the role of a helpful and encouraging boyfriend, as it also still felt odd to see him touching her in a way only lovers did. It didn’t matter the gesture or touch was meant to be casual – I could see it. Everybody could see it, even _more_ so than before.

Guess they had sex alright.

Oh, well.

Good for them, I guess.

Angel all of a sudden jabbed me in the side, causing me to jolt up a bit. I instantly turned to glare at the spider demon, who pointed at the domestic show at the desk with a critical frown on his pasty face.

 _“What!”_ I hissed.

“You know – I think I found Al more handsome as a fucked-up deer demon.”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Seriously, Angel – who _cares_ about that asshole’s looks, he’s still a fucking _asshole_ and I hate him.”

“Maybe Charlie cares about that?” Angel wondered.

Just then, we noticed Al reciting some of the text on the paper out loud to Charlie, who gazed at him with big, sparkling eyes and a disgustingly infatuated smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.

“Yyyyyeah, I don’t think she finds him any less… interesting,” I said, folding both my arms as my legs together. 

“That’s _wild,”_ Angel said, whistling. “I never would’ve guessed she’d like Al’s boring human looks as well. Just look at the dude. If he becomes any nerdier, he’ll rock the ‘slightly-deranged-librarian’ –look like it was _meant_ for him. Ohh! He should totally keep that look for Halloween.”

I sighed. “Charlie doesn’t care all that much about looks, Angel. I told you before she gets taken in by a person’s natural charm and – I don’t know – _charisma,_ I guess. I mean, did you ever hear her gush about how much of a fucking dreamboat Alastor is? No you didn’t.”

“Eww, _dreamboat_ – the 30s called, Vaggie, they want their outdated slang for ‘handsome guy’ back.” 

“Ugh – you _know_ what I mean!”

“Yea yea, I know. Don’t put yer panties in a twist.”

We both shut up for a while as the library began to get more and more crowded. Charlie noticeably grew more nervous. Still, she chuckled when Al said something to her, possibly to lift her spirits or reassure her things would be okay. 

“Charlie looks pretty happy with everything that's going on,” Angel commented, as sinners took their seats left and right of us, and also behind us. 

“That says nothing. Charlie _always_ looks happy,” I muttered. “That’s what inheriting the cute, clownish face of your weird-ass reject of a father does with you.” 

Angel made a thoughtful sound. “So… you think Charlie _isn’t_ happy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not? I…”

“Yes?”

“I have… a _theory_ on what’s happening. A hypothesis, so you wish.”

“Oooh, a _hypothesis!_ Well well well.” His eye balls sarcastically rolled around in their sockets. “Look – don’t try to be a fucking _smartass,_ Vags, everybody in this room is at least ten times smarter than me anyway. Just say what ya wanna say already.”

I wanted to – I really did – but right at that moment, I could hear the definitive closing of the library doors. It marked the beginning of Charlie’s announcement, because soon enough, the room got quiet and Alastor moved away from Charlie, after having given her his microphone.

 _“Don’t be shy, love! You can do this!”_ the sentient – _sentient?!_ – mike told Charlie in an upbeat voice, and she laughed sheepishly. 

“A-alright – hi! H-hello, everybody.” She cleared her throat and went to stand in front of the library’s desk, where everybody was able to see and hear her. “Uhm, welcome! In here! In the… library! Yeah! I bet you… didn’t come here to hear me talk about books, haha…!”

Oh god she sounded _so_ uneasy.

The audience didn’t respond, except for someone coughing in the back. Charlie’s strained smile tried to look for a friendly face in this sea of skeptical demonic deformities – and her eyes eventually looked at me. And kept looking at me, almost begging me to do something.

I attempted to boost her mood with a wide smile and gave her two thumbs-up. 

Angel smiled as well and gave her two thumbs-down.

I smacked him across the face.

“Ouch, you _bitch,_ that _hurt!”_ he cried out – but was shut up instantaneously when Alastor’s now even _more_ disturbing, uneven red-and-brown eyes leered at him, voodoo-symbols dancing around his head in a warning way. 

_“Do_ go on, my love,” Alastor then said to Charlie, having _nothing_ of that creepy shit going on anymore the freaking _second_ he looked back at her.

She nodded – and after one last deep breath, she began to talk.   
  


  
**VvV  
  
**

  
If I had to summarize everything Charlie had said, it would go like this:

So Charlie had called her dad and told him about how a certain number of sinners had gotten a more humane appearance after waking up this morning. It had also caught her attention that most sinners only had _one_ specific character trait/deformity of theirs changed. The changed limbs and other body parts also resembled the _original_ ones of the sinner, when they were still alive and kicking. Like, take Niffty, who had blue eyes when she was a living human girl. She didn’t get her other eye back, but she _did_ get her own, blue eye-color back. Her eye also looked ridiculously realistic. Also, these changes had only occurred to the hotel residents who had decided to keep on coming back to the library after Alastor’s reading assignment. Sinners who hadn’t done that, like Husk, weren’t affected by the sudden deformities in any way.

Lucifer had responded in confusion, according to Charlie. He didn’t know for sure what was going on, but it indeed sounded like parts of the bodies of the sinners had started to reform – or, yes, _redeem_ themselves. After he had been informed about Alastor’s plan, he was quick to tell Charlie that there most likely wouldn’t be much more that was going to change. Alastor’s reading assignments and the surprising effects of those tests were the results of a clever, yet fairly weak scheme: surely the hotel’s clients could have gotten a bit nicer and bit more empathic thanks to Alastor’s efforts, but simply reading books _didn’t_ transform you into a person worthy of going to Heaven. 

So, no: even though a part of all the reading sinners had gotten a _tad_ closer to Heaven thanks to the books they had been reading, they wouldn’t get any more changes happening to them. According to Charlie’s dad, our partly-redeemed bodies had taken these current shapes thanks to an assembled collection of small, good deeds we had done ever since giving in to the joy of reading books – and unless we got off our asses and got busy doing _more_ good deeds than just sit around and read, _nothing_ would happen in the end.

Plus, it wasn’t like we’d get into Heaven all that easily, even _if_ we went and got all of our bodies reformed, inside as well as the outside. Lucifer had told Charlie that an angelic inspector from Heaven would personally come down from their Paradise to check on the maybe-redeemed sinner, first, before they’d _maybe, possibly_ , grant them the incredible honor to come and join them in Heaven. 

Long story short: we started reading books and became a bit better and all we got out of it was this weird human arm – or something like that.

Useless to say, in the end, Charlie’s announcement didn’t really stir up anything or anybody – most demons seemed happy they at least had gotten a bit better people – and after Charlie had said the things she needed to say, everybody just up and left.

They didn’t even offer to help Charlie out with putting back all the seats and chairs, those bastards – not even _Angel,_ that useless piece of shit – he just got out of the library as soon as he saw the chance to do so!

“Oh but that’s alright!” Charlie laughed, as I _did_ help her out, like with a particularly heavy wooden stool, because I was trying to be an actual _good_ friend, dammit. “I’m sure the people who like reading will come back to the library, in time. I guess I sort of _confronted_ them with the fact they had spent a lot of the past few days reading instead of causing problems – maybe it was embarrassing for them to find that out this way. They’ll come back, for sure.”

I looked at her smiling face and couldn’t help worrying. “Well – does that even _matter,_ Charlie? If your dad was telling you the truth, it doesn’t have any more benefits for them to keep on returning to the library.”

“I _liked_ seeing people wandering around in my library, doing something worthwhile instead of – well – fighting, or doing bad stuff, or… you know, anything that won’t get them into heaven any faster,” Charlie said, as she now pushed a fauteuil back into place. “It was like I could finally… connect to them! Get to know them! And it was kind of adorable to see Al beaming at the results of his hard work.”

I put some cushions on a sofa and watched Charlie rubbing her cheeks, probably holding back the urge to _squee~_ from the cuteness of it all. As far as Alastor could be considered _cute,_ that is.

Which wasn’t possible.

He wasn’t cute.

He was an ass.

Amen.

“Speaking about Alastor,” I said, looking around us and noticing Niffty run around the place with _multiple_ chairs (naturally she had wanted to help cleaning up as well), “where is he? Did he bolt as well?”

Charlie shook her head. “No no, he had told be beforehand he had some errands to run, so he left right after I had finished my announcement. I’m happy you and Niffty could stick around and help me out, though!”

I nodded silently. Charlie picked up another seat and dragged it over to the other side of the library, where it was just the two of us. I followed her, scratching my arm as the question burning in my mind demanded to be spoken out loud.

“Charlie?” I asked her, when her back was turned to me.

“Yeah?”

“Alastor has changed a lot.”

“I _know,_ right?” Charlie sounded upbeat, fluffing a random pillow. “I had thought so as well, but – well – just _look_ at him! It shows! His appearance got reformed the _most_ out of all the demons and sinners of the hotel! It’s amazing, really – I’m so _proud_ of him!”

“Yeah.” I kept on running my nails over the skin of my arm. “It’s like he is getting more… um, updates on his looks. More… redemption-points, somehow.”

“He probably _is,_ yes!”

She finally turned around again, but even when I could look her right in the face like this, Charlie didn’t give the slightest hint of any conflicting feelings. Her smile seemed genuine and pleased, her cheeks were rosy and she didn’t cast her eyes down.

She blinked when she saw the look on my own, distressed face. “Hey – what’s wrong, Vaggie?” 

“Charlie,” I heard myself say, “if – if parts of Alastor are still getting redeemed, bit by bit… if that keeps going on like that, for _god knows what_ bizarre reason…”

“He’ll probably be the first to get the chance to ascend to Heaven, yes.” Charlie smiled smugly at that. “Pretty ironic, don’t you think: the _single_ person who’s been telling me he’d be with me till the very end, since he can’t be redeemed because he’s sooooo evil and stuff, is going to get redeemed before _anybody_ else is. Just like that!” 

I stared at her. 

“Did – did you _plan_ this?”

Finally, I saw something of a crack in Charlie’s grinning façade.

“…what did you say?”

“Did you plan it like that?” I felt my skin itching even more and gripped my arm. I’d hurt myself if I continued to scratch myself at this rate. “Did you _deliberately_ make Alastor fall in love with you, just so you could prove him wrong, make him do _everything_ for your sake and send him to Heaven first? Did you—”

_Smack._

I stopped breathing for a moment when a sharp pain shot through my right cheek. I looked at Charlie, who still held her hand up in the air. Her eyes had gotten that rare, demonic hue of red and yellow I never really enjoyed seeing in her – and they were filled with tears.

“Take that back,” she growled, shaking ever so slightly. “You – you take that back **_right now_** , Vaggie.” 

I put a hand on my face. “I – I take it back.”

“You honestly think I would do that?” Charlie carried on. “That I would _manipulate_ someone into loving me – just to prove them _wrong,_ just to send them off to someplace far, far away, where I can never be with them? That’s… that’s _messed up_ , Vaggie! That’s _so_ messed up!”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“But to answer your question – _no,_ Vaggie, I _didn’t_ plan this. I _didn’t_ want him to be the first one to leave me. I – he – he said he was unredeemable.” Charlie’s lower lip started to tremble as well now, just when her eyes finally shed their tears. “H-he was supposed to be _unredeemable._ He told me – _promised_ me. He – he said he’d even write books to kill time, just to be with me. He’d write _books_ for me, Vaggie! He was the one who… he…” 

The more tears dripped down Charlie’s tightened face, the more her evil eyes calmed down, until they changed back in the usual big, doe-like orbs. There was nothing fierce or frightening about my friend anymore when she buried her face into her hands and cried – heartbreakingly loud and desperate. 

It wasn’t like I had never seen her this upset before, but it still shook me to my very core – and I wanted nothing more but to pull her into my arms, tell her I was sorry and that I didn’t mean it and that I was just – just _thinking_ stupid _things,_ and that—

“No,” Charlie firmly said, shying away from my touch when I came close to her. “No, Vaggie, no. Just… just _no._ Leave me alone.”

With a last sniff, she pushed me back and walked away from me, as quickly as she could, furiously wiping her irritated eyes. She disappeared behind a bookcase and stayed there, as if she silently begged me to get away from her. 

I just kept standing there for a while, feeling horrible, miserable and the worst – just the _worst._ I gritted my teeth and felt water trickling down my chin.

You got that, Vaggie? Did you get all of that, yeah?

 _There’s_ your reason why you are in Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'As I Lay Dying' was one of the more... comprehesible books Faulkner has written in his career. Many of his books were very vague and difficult to understand, but this one was actually pretty okay to read and understand. Faulkner's book has multiple narrators with multiple voices, so you get to know the characters in the story pretty well.  
> So the story is about this family - the Bundren family. The mother of the family, Addie, feels she's dying and asks of her poor, hillbilly family to bring her to Jefferson, Mississippi, where she was brought up. She wishes to be buried there. And so - her family sets out to do just that. And then, like you'd expect, everything goes wrong what possibly could go wrong, and you, the reader, slowly but surely start to realize this family is a collection of horrible people - and dead Addie's probably the biggest bitch of them all.  
> Although this book, too, is considered to be a masterpiece nowadays, it actually got a lot of backlash back in the days because of its unusual themes, like abortion, masturbation and the use of foul language.


	38. Gulliver's Travels (Jonathan Swift)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie calls her mom. Alastor returns from his errand.

I retreated my miserable self into a quiet, empty ballroom nobody was using (just one of the many unused rooms, I suppose), somewhere on the fourth floor, close to where the library was. There, I let myself slump down onto the dusty floor and took my phone out of my pockets, sniveling pathetically as I dialed her number. 

Miraculously enough, my mother picked up her phone _right away_. 

Maybe it was because of the unusual time of day – I mostly attempted to contact her late in the evening, not when it was still light outside. Maybe this was a signal, a silent hint to me: you better call mom a bit earlier during the day instead of when you’re about to go to sleep, if you really, _really_ wish to talk to her that much. 

Or – maybe I was just lucky. I didn’t know. 

But I was happy she answered her phone and pressed my lips together tightly as I heard her say my name in that low, yet soothing voice of hers. 

_“Why if it isn’t our little apple beignet. Hello, my sweet. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon already? Don’t tell me you’re getting ready for bed – that’s just silly at this hour.”_

“H-hi mom.” Crap – I could already feel my throat clogging up with slimy, thick snot and tears. “I-I’m so happy you picked up your phone. I-I need to talk to you.”

There was a silence on the other side of the phone. I pulled up my knees and leaned against the door behind me, sighing deeply – although it probably sounded like I was choking, since that caused my mom to speak up again.

_“Charlie – what’s going on, my sweet? You sound downright depressed. You never sound downright depressed. Maybe a bit chagrined or huffy, but never depressed. How worrisome. Should I call our doctor? Do you want to come home, maybe?”_

It was nice to hear my mother offer me to come ‘home’, even though she knew just as well as I did that things always got rather tense when I was back at my parents’ place. Still – it cheered me up, just a little bit. 

I chuckled feebly. “No – it’s not that, I – mom, you probably know I’ve talked with dad on the phone a couple of hours ago, yeah?”

_“Yes, he told me all about it – but he didn’t say anything mean or tactless to you, now, did he? Because if he did, tell me right now and I’ll let him sleep on the couch tonight. Not even his appealing, adorable apple-face can save him from my terrible wrath.”_

“…letting him sleep on the couch is your _terrible wrath_ for him possibly hurting me?”

 _“That’s right – I’m hitting him where it hurts,”_ my mother confidently said. _“A very cruel fate indeed. But you say the word, my sweet, and it’s done. That’s just how far I’m willing to go for you.”_

“Don’t worry, dad didn’t say or do anything wrong.” I was happy to notice my mom’s strange antics had made my voice sound more stable now. “It’s just… well… you said dad told you all about the situation going on in here right now, right?”

_“Yes he did.”_

“So you know that thanks to… s-some plan, some of the sinners in my hotel are showing signs of something like a …redemption process?”

 _“I know, yes. And your dad said that there’s not much to be rejoicing about already, because it’s just one single part of the sinners that has changed. It takes a lot more good deeds to change a sinner completely – that’s what he said. Oh, that father of yours. In spite of his gorgeous smile, he’s always been kind of a party pooper…”_ Mom giggled nevertheless, like a little girl in love. 

I took a better hold on my phone. “What if I told you that – that there’s one sinner in the hotel who’s had _multiple_ things about his appearance change? Who’s… maybe _still_ unwittingly redeeming parts of himself?”

Mother made a surprised sound. _“Well, I guess that sinner must have done a lot more good deeds, then.”_

“Well, not _really._ He – he just came up with the reading assignments. It was – it was his idea to get the sinners to start reading and return for more,” I said. 

_“So it’s thanks to him people keep on coming to the library – keep on bettering himself. One person per time. One body part per person.”_

I spread my eyes open wide, but didn’t respond to that.

Mother hummed, as if she was mildly amused at something. _“Is there something… special about this sinner, my sweet?”_

Feeling caught in the act, I tried to dismiss her question. “W-what makes you think _that?”_

 _“Oh please, Charlie. You’re my daughter. I know it when you’re in love. I can hear it, it’s barely hidden in your voice.”_ Mother chortled. _“So, it’s another ‘him’ this time, hmm? How nice. I can’t wait for your father to act like a little jealous child again when he hears this. You know he has this weird thing – he doesn’t mind you having girls as lovers, but guys are a no-go. He’s such a baby.”_

“Tell me about it.” I groaned. “But anyway. Um. Yes. I – I’m seeing somebody. I really like him. And he likes me. And that’s – that’s all kinds of amazing, and I’m feeling really happy to have him around me…”

 _“…but?”_ mom knowingly said.

“But.” I swallowed and shivered, trying to find a way to carry on – and failing at that. Why did I even shiver? It wasn’t cold at all and I sat pretty comfortably on this carpet here.

 _“Ah.”_ Mother sighed, understanding my single ‘but’ anyway. _“You fear you’re going to lose him at this rate.”_

“Y-yes,” I hiccupped.

 _“But wasn’t that your goal from the start?”_ Mom’s voice grew a bit sterner. _“And wasn’t it_ you _who’s always been telling both your father and I that that ‘didn’t matter’ to you and that you weren’t going to let some ‘stupid selfish feelings’ stand in the way of your ultimate ambition? Weren’t you prepared to go through_ every single hellhole _for our precious subjects, just to give them the chance to ascend to Heaven?”_

“Yes,” I whispered now. “And – and I still am.”

Mom let out a slightly annoyed breath of air. _“Charlie – this was what your father and I have been telling you right from the start – no,_ before _it all started, even._ This _is why we’ve been against this crazy redemption hotel of yours. You’re so kind and compassionate, lovely, there’s no way you would’ve been able to pull this stunt off without getting unspeakably hurt in the process.”_

“This is not about _me_ – and I told you, I _still_ am ready to send everybody off to Heaven,” I muttered. “I just – just didn’t think it’d go like _this._ I thought – I thought I’d need many years, decades, maybe even _centuries_ before somebody would start showing signs of redemption. Not just… a few months. I didn’t prepare for _that.”_

_“Or for your lover to be the first one.”_

“Mom.” My vision started to get blurry. “H-he said it was impossible for me to redeem him.”

 _“Oh sweetheart – my dear, sweet apple beignet.”_ Mom heaved yet another empathic sigh. _“By the sound of it, I fear you were the_ only one _who could redeem him.”_

“Don’t say that…”

_“You know, you can simply tell him to stay with you—”_

“No!”

 _“…annnnd why did I bother suggesting that, I knew what your answer would be.”_ My mother chuckled, but it sounded sad. 

“You know how wonderful Heaven is,” I pointed out to her. “You told me yourself how traumatized dad was when he got thrown out of it – how much he missed his old life.”

_“That was so many years ago, my sweet – and he was mostly upset to leave behind his friends and family, not Heaven per se, for obvious reasons. Your father nowadays couldn’t care less about Heaven.”_

“Well as King of Hell and a fallen angel, he doesn’t _have_ to care about Heaven or the deadly murderers they send down from the heavens each and every year, now _does_ he!” I found myself nagging at my mother. “His luxurious life as it is now is comfortable enough, even _if_ his former friends and family are rampaging through Hell and kill every desperate sinner in their path! He just a big piece of—”

_“That’s **enough,** Charlotte.”_

Gritting my teeth, I gulped down the words I had been wanting to say.

It took my mom a little while before she spoke up again.

_“I understand your pain and frustration. And I think you have a big and noble heart, I do. I admire your need to wish nothing but the best for Hell’s citizens, even if most of them are very undeserving and ungrateful for all of your hard work. But I expect you to keep the opinions of your parents in mind as well. You don’t have to share the same vision we have – even though your life would’ve been so much easier if you did. However, I do need you to respect our decision to disagree with you, concerning your redemption plans.”_

I rubbed my eyes, which were all watery and cloudy again. “Fine.”

_“We love you, Charlie. We want nothing but the best for our little girl. You know that, right?”_

“I-I know.” Calmed down, I nibbled on my lip. “I love you, too.”

_“I have to go now, my sweet. Your father and I have an important meeting we need to attend to.”_

“Sure.”

Noting the sheer disappointment in my voice, my mom let out a sorrowful laugh. 

_“Oh Charlie. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the comfort you’re looking for. Unfortunately, I only have the truth to offer.”_

“Oh that’s okay. I’ll just try and look for some comfort in Alastor’s arms tonight instead.”

_“Well good, maybe you should – what, wait – **Charlie wait who did you say?** ”_

“Bye mom.”

Without paying any more attention to my panicking mother, I hung up the phone, turned it off and buried my face in my arms.

I shouldn’t have said that.

I shouldn’t have said that.

I shouldn’t have said that…   
  


**CcC  
  
**

  
In an attempt to get my mind back on track and stop worrying about things I wasn’t going to hinder anyway, I went back to my office _straight away_ after I had ended my call with mom.

It was no use to sit around and feel depressed – like mom had said, being depressed wasn’t something I was very good at, so why start now?

I _was_ very good at twisting and turning my stressful thoughts into nothing but raw, sizzling energy, though – and since I had fallen behind on the hotel’s administration anyway, what better way to make use of my white-hot-frustration-energy than start working on all those papers that had been piling up on my desk? 

So I got to work, and just in a matter of a few hours, I managed to not only get rid of all of those pesky files, commissions and unanswered mails, but I also successfully performed tasks I didn’t have to do for weeks yet – and I even prepared a handy to-do list for what the sinners should do when the next Purge would come. You know: writing down all of the best hiding spots, finding out what kind of sinners were targeted at the most, getting to know where most of the angels would pop up…

I was on a _roll,_ really!

No way I was going to let _anybody,_ including myself, stop me from being this productive and useful!   
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
When eventually Alastor came into my office, asking me when I was planning to finally come out of my room, I still didn’t want to stop working.

“Oh but you’re going to,” he simply said, walking up to me.

“No,” I said, stubbornly and instinctively clinging to my desk as he approached me. “I’ve only been working here for a couple of hours – do you have any idea how much I already did in just those few hours? Can you imagine how much I’ll be able to do if I just work a little bit longer?”

Alastor grinned as he loomed over me. “Charlie, my love – it’s almost _eight o’clock_ in the evening. You’re _done_ for today.”

“Oh – really?” I turned my head to look at the window, and yes: it was dark outside. “I-I didn’t notice.”

He shrugged. “Well, the rest of the hotel did, my dear. All of your annoying sinners – they’ve been asking me where you are ever since I’ve returned from my outing. Such an unreal experience – almost as if they find it strange to see me apart from you!”

“You… can’t really blame them for that,” I said. “Considering the past weeks. And, um, stuff.”

“Stuff. Yes. I – no, I suppose not.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, come with me. You need to get out of this stuffy room as soon as possible. It smells funny in here – like exhausted, slowly decaying princesses.”

I frowned at him and tried to pull some documents closer to me. “Okay – you know what, I’ll just finish these, and then I’ll come downstairs and – I don’t know, eat some crackers.” 

Alastor’s surreal, human mouth curled upwards even more than usual and he laughed mockingly at my suggestion – then he just pried my hands from my desk and picked me up, right into his arms.

“Crackers – oh _lord,”_ he kept on chuckling, as I (half-heartedly) struggled against his firm grip around me, _“please_ don’t tell me you actually expected me to say ‘yes ma’am’ and leave you be. You didn’t, did you?”

“No,” I admitted and stopped trying to wrestle my way out of his arms soon after. As soon as Alastor felt I had given up, his hold on me got a lot gentler and he even planted a rewarding kiss on the top of my head as he carried me out of my office. I sighed at that, leaning back a bit. I suddenly felt how tired I was, from – this day, I guess.

“Maybe I overdid it,” I mumbled.

“I’d say so,” Al agreed as he descended a staircase. “Your skin looks even grayer than Vaggie’s mothy face on a particular cold and windy day. And let me tell you, my love – that’s _not_ a healthy look.”

I snorted – then I very hypocritically swatted at his face. “Hey! Don’t bash Vaggie!”

“Well do _you_ think her skin color’s in good condition? Surely you can’t be serious.”

I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I am serious – and don’t call me Shirley.”

He shook his head at that. “Oh _Charlie.”_

“Yeah?” I giggled.

“That was – that was horrible. _So_ very horrible.”

“You’re smiling though.”

“I always am – that’s what I _do._ But most of all when I’m with you.”

Another kiss – this one landed on my forehead, making me smile a bit wider.

I looked up at him and wanted to make another lame pun, when I noticed something different about him. Again.

“You’re… wearing glasses now, Al?”

He nodded and _thoroughly_ adjusted them, just for show. 

“I am, yes! That was one of the errands I had to do – get my old specs. With that one, changed eye, it seems my eyesight has gotten a lot worse as well. Which was to be expected, really: as a human, I had the most dreadful eyesight. Oh, without my spectacles, I couldn’t see a thing! You have no idea how clumsy some of my killings were executed, simply because my glasses kept on getting dirty. It was such a handful.”

“I’m sure,” I said, giving him a judgmental look. “Where did you keep them?”

“I happened to still have them with me when I arrived in Hell, one hundred-or-so years ago. An old friend of mine told me I should exchange them for something more stylish – hence the monocle. She in the meantime agreed to watch over my old glasses, since I didn’t want to throw them away. I’m very pleased she kept them under her good care!”

“How nice of her,” I smiled. “I didn’t know you had… um… friends.”

“Well believe it or not, my love, but even somebody like _me_ can have friends.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t worry Charlie, she’s just a friend and I’m not attracted to her in any possible way.”

“I-I didn’t even _say_ anything!” I stammered, even though my treacherous cheeks did heat up some more.

Alastor laughed heartily, pinched my cheeks – and walked straight past the kitchen. Instead, he seemed to take me to the relaxation room, where most sinners spend their evenings. It was a room that had got all kinds of stuff: demons could play some video games in there, watch movies and play cards or board games. Most of the furniture in here was second-hand and didn’t fit well with the rest of the room’s decoration, but I always thought that gave the room much of its bizarre charm.

It surprised me Al wanted me to sit here instead of the kitchen – but on the other hand, he never really liked the kitchen all that much. Too white to his liking or something. Plus, except for a passed-out Husk snoring at one of the tables and Niffty, cleaning away the trash on the ground, the dimly-lit room was empty. I bet the other sinners that had been chilling here had probably been shooed away by Al.

“Alright,” Al said, as he put me down on the brown couch, “you sit here and wait for the dinner I’ve prepared earlier this afternoon.”

I gasped. “You _cooked?_ For _everybody?”_

Alastor felt a bit embarrassed and scratched the back of his head. “Yes, well – I felt like it, I suppose? I was quite hungry when I returned from Rosie’s place and I didn’t want to go out hunting, so I asked Vaggie if it was alright for me to make some jambalaya for all of the hotel’s lousy sinners. You were busy and I had nothing better to do anyway, so there you have it.”

“Oh I _love_ your jambalaya,” I said, my mouth watering already. 

“I know you do.” Al hooked a human hand underneath my chin and tilted it upwards. “That’s why I’m going to serve you dinner – like the way you wanted to serve me breakfast this morning, my beautiful darling.”

“You knew,” I muttered, embarrassed.

“I knew.” He bent down and pecked me on the lips. “You’re a delight and I love you. Now – please make sure to finish your dinner soon, so that I can give you my present next.”

“Present?” I repeated, blinking rapidly as Alastor deliberately turned and walked away from me. I leaned to the side of the couch, calling after him.

“You got me a present, Al? What kind of present?”

But all he did was hum and exit the relaxation room, leaving me behind in excited wonder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read a few chapters of 'Gulliver's Travels' when I was twelve or so - but I rather watched the TV series that was airing years ago. So I did the latter. XDD I do have the book here, in my bookcase. Maybe I'll read the rest one day, too…  
> The book's about the travels of a man named Lemuel Gulliver. In the first chapters, he is washed ashore an unknown island (Lilliput, he later finds out). The island is inhabited by really small people, who imprison him at first, but later decide to trust him and let him roam the island freely. Things are fine for a period of time, but once he refuses to fight for more tracks of land for Lilliput, he's forced to flee the island and comes to an island with giant people, named Brobdingnag. There, he's exploited by an enormous farmer for money, and later sold to the Queen of the realm. This isn't the end of his travels, though, as Gulliver continues to travel to many, many more islands for the remainder of the story.  
> This book was controversial because of its displays of madness, urinating in public (yes, you read that right) and because it seemed to make some politically sensitive references to the 'real' world. Ireland downright hated Swift's work and banned his 'wicked, obscene' book.


	39. Brideshead Revisited (Evelyn Waugh)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Charlie gushes over the present Alastor got her, Alastor and Husk have an interesting conversation.

“Jambalaya is a rice-based dish that wouldn’t have excited at all, hadn’t it been influenced by different Spanish, French and many other Mediterranean dishes,” I told Charlie, as she ate her dinner. “It’s originally derived from the well-known, Spanish rice-dish paella, and truth be told, there aren’t many differences between the two dishes – except for two very strong, stone-cold facts. One: the good people of Louisiana used tomatoes instead of saffron, since saffron was a rare ingredient in America when they started making jambalaya, and two: no mere paella-dish can ever beat the wonderful jambalaya-recipe my dear mother invented and taught me.”

Charlie didn’t respond per se, but she did give me an interested look, as she kept eating the jambalaya – with a spoon, straight out of the bowl on her lap – as fast as she could. 

It – and Charlie herself – didn’t look all that appetizing, but, well, I had brought this upon myself. After all, _I_ was the one who had told the blonde princess she would only get the present I bought for her as soon as she had finished her dinner. Being a fairly modest girl that hardly got any presents in her hard life, it was no wonder Charlie was stuffing her face with the speed of sound now.

I could have scolded her for that, or try to tell her to at least _try_ and savor the taste of the rice-dish, filled with delicious meat, _fruit de mer_ , onion, green bells and just a hint of tabasco sauce before swallowing all of it whole – but good _gracious_ wasn’t she simply the most _adorable_ thing in this wretched place as she shamelessly put aside her own pride, just to get what she want!

Other than that, I _also_ couldn’t wait to hand over my gift to her and watch her no-doubt absolutely wonderful reaction to that – so I had to admit I was pleased to see Charlie wasn’t planning to leave me waiting for too long here.

Within a minute of ten, maybe even less, Charlie handed me her almost completely emptied bowl, grinning at me expectantly. Her facial features were covered with sauce and bits of vegetables and seafood and I probably shouldn’t take her darling face in my hands and kiss and lick every single bit of spilled-but-not-yet-wasted jambalaya off her lovely skin, but my _lord_ did she make it hard for me to resist doing just that. It was the wall-dilemma all over again.

But instead, I snapped in my fingers and made the bowl disappear. With another swift snap, I made a red-checkered towel appear and pulled Charlie’s chin closer to me, muttering to her she should sit still as I rubbed the greasy food remains off her face. 

Charlie obediently did as she was told and kept on looking up at me, her eyes large and, somehow, wistful. I could sense it – there was a sadness hidden in them.

“What’s the matter, my love?” I asked her.

“Your eyes – I mean, eye,” Charlie said. “It’s brown.”

I nodded, polishing a surprisingly stubborn smudge of sauce off Charlie’s cheek. “I had brown eyes, yes.”

“I like it. It’s a nice kind of brown – ow. Like – caramel.”

“Caramel?” I chuckled. “Well, just leave it to a sweet tooth like you to compare my mundane, human eye-color to something as luscious as caramel.”

Charlie smiled distantly. “You know, I sometimes wonder what kind of eye-color I would have had, if I had been born a human girl.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlie. You wouldn’t have been born a human girl.”

She cast her eyes down. “I-I know, but—”

“You would’ve been born an angel, my love, and your eyes would have been the bluest blue in the entire universe. They would need to think of a new name for that kind of beautiful blue, even. Not that I don’t like your eyes the way they are right _now,_ mind you. Your eyes are black, yes, but they are as dark as the gentles, most peaceful nights, kind and comforting. I absolutely love them.” 

I stopped rubbing her face and observed my cleaning’s results from a little distance. There! Much better. 

Charlie, in the meantime, stared at me with a face that slowly but surely bloomed in the most mesmerizing way. She brought up a hand and clasped it around the hand that was holding her chin. It was warm – of course it was.

“Al?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” She scooted closer to me and raised her face to mine. “Please kiss me.”

I wasn’t sure why telling Charlie the truth and nothing but the truth caused her to ask me to kiss her, but who was I to deny her such a tender gesture of love and affection – and I gleefully closed the distance between our lips. We exchanged two, maybe three rather gentle, almost polite kisses, before Charlie’s soft giggling put an end to it. 

“You still kiss the same way you did before,” she said, as I had to adjust my glasses a bit.

I blinked. “Is that good?”

“That’s good, darling.” Charlie gave me a smile and carefully touched my face. “That’s _very_ good.”  
  


  
**AaA**   
  


  
Soon after that, it was time for me to hand over the present I had brought with me. Charlie was so thrilled about it, she could barely contain her excitement as I put the large package on her lap. The present was covered with pink wrapping paper and although I had found that a bit too much, I remember Rosie grinning widely at me and telling me that everybody, especially women, judged books – and gifts – by their covers. 

“Not this woman,” I had told her.

“Even this woman,” Rosie had insisted in turn. “Trust me – I _know_ women. I… am _one of them_.”

She then proceeded to give me this triumphant, defiant stare for a little while, as if the ‘news’ she was a woman should have shaken me to my very core (which it didn’t, but it was amusing nonetheless), after which she swiftly plucked the package out of my hands and started to wrap it. She did it with a finesse that _did,_ in fact, impress me, but to her it was just another present.

“She is going to love this,” Rosie told me when she pushed the now neatly wrapped gift back into my arms. “So please make sure to thoroughly tell her all about the wonderful Emporium you got this from.”

“Franklin would have been so proud of you,” I had snickered.

She had smiled back, in a bordering-on-maniacal way. “Who?” 

My! That Rosie! What a crackpot, haha!

Still, she had been a great help. There was a very important reason why I bought Charlie that present, after all…

“Can I open it, Al?” Charlie all of a sudden asked me, putting me back in the here and now, and I snapped out of it. 

“But of course, my dear – go on ahead and unpack it!”

Charlie made a delighted shrieking sound and started to – _very_ precisely and _very_ slowly – peel off the wrapping paper. I had half expected the princess to simply tear off the paper like it was worth nothing to her, but it seems like she knew I had went the extra mile by wrapping her present for her. Was Rosie right all along, then? 

“What a nice wrapping, Al!” While unpacking, Charlie still managed to send me an affectionate smile. “I really wonder what it is – and why you bought me something in the first place.” 

“Who cares, just hurry up and open that shit up already,” Husker grumbled, lazily leaning over the couch’s back.

“Oh my god I _know_ right????” Niffty gasped as well, buzzing around Charlie and me like an annoying little bug – which she kind of was, in all honesty.

Yes – Husker and Niffty, who naturally had been listening in on us, had come closer to check on Charlie’s present when curiosity got the better of them. And here I was, thinking the both of them had been too occupied with drowning in booze and being indulged in their own little world to care about us. A simple rookie mistake. I made a mental note of it, so that this situation – having to share Charlie’s sacred gratefulness with others while I actually wanted to keep it to myself – would not happen again in the future.  
  
After what seemed ages, Charlie got the wrapping off and looked at the box resting on her lap in amazement. She gave me a questioning glance – which I answered with a gracious nod – and then she lifted the lid off the present. In the box was a lot of unnecessary white… see-through paper, what Charlie folded to the side as well. Then, finally, she took a hold of her actual present and took it out of the box.

“It’s – a dress,” she observed. 

“No,” Husker groaned. “I woke up and got my ass over to the couch for a fuckin’ _dress?”_

“Yes,” I said.

“Ohhhhhh, lemme help!” Niffty instantly shot towards Charlie and assisted her with unfolding the dress.

It was a very refined, yet playful dress. It materialized in soft, pastel colors, yellow and pink, because I believed hard colors didn’t suit Charlie’s pale, porcelain skin tone. It looked like a ballgown to me, but according to Rosie, who had helped me with picking it out, it was too casual to be considered an actual gown. Nonetheless, the dress consisted of a lot of skirt, which was very wide and went all the way down. Although Charlie wasn’t exactly small, I still wondered if the dress – the skirt part of it, that is – wouldn’t be too long for her.

“W-wow,” Charlie stammered, shooting a beaming smile at me, “it’s _beautiful,_ Al!”

“Put it on,” Niffty said, no, _commanded,_ before I could respond to that. “You need to see if it fits. And somebody needs to help you with the bodice. I can help you with that!”

Charlie chuckled. “Alright – I’ll go get changed. Do you mind, Alastor?”

“Oh no no, by all means, go and put it on!” I even made a hand waving gesture. “Husker and I will be right here waiting for you, my love.”

I watched the two girls leave the relaxation room with a contented, placid smile. Until I heard Husker, laughing lowly and smugly, though – then it immediately got a bit stiffer.

“Your _love,_ huh,” he hoarsely said, standing up and stretching his back. “Damn. You’re not even _trying_ to be subtle about it anymore, are you.”

I chortled. “I’m afraid I’m no longer able to try and be subtle about it, my good friend.”

“Yeah, well,” Husker moved over and heavily sat next to me on the couch – quite a safe distance from me, as always, but still. “subtlety never was your strongest suit, now was it. But whatever – she’s a good girl. Fuck – she’s probably the _best_ girl Hell has to offer. I knew you two had this disgusting chemistry going on for months now – but I’d never thought you’d actually end up dating her for real.”

I gave him a look. “What _had_ you thought, then?”

He snorted. “That you would just end up hurting each other. You know, ‘cause you two are so different. She’s nice and sweet and an angel’s daughter, and you’re evil, and weird, and overbearing, and a _huge fuckin’ mass-murderer_. Usually, those kind of unholy combinations end up in tears for both parties. And who knows, maybe it’s still eventually going down the drain in the most terrible, tragic way. But hey – at least you both seem pretty happy with each other for _now,_ and that’s good.”

I couldn’t quite think of the right way to read into that remark – was this a compliment, was it a warning, was Husker perhaps even mocking me and Charlie’s fragile, yet enjoyable relationship? Who knew? – so I merely nodded. 

“So I heard you nailed her last night,” Husker then casually continued – and I felt some of my muscles cramp up in surprise. Also, I was fairly sure my face increased in its warmth. How awful I had my own, human skin back – I’ve always had the most obvious, flushed face. 

“Oh my. News travels fast, I see.”

“Naah. _Angel_ does.” Husker paused. “So. Was it good?”

“Was what good?”

“You know – sleeping with the princess? Was it _good?”_

“How should I know? I got nothing to compare her to.”

 _“Shit,_ Al, don’t be a fuckin’ _tease,_ you _know_ what I mean – would you fuckin’ _do her again_ , yes or no?”

I smiled – and rapidly turned towards the cat demon, gently yet _insistently_ pressing my red, cold microphone against the beast’s throat. Husker let out a startled groan.

“Husker, my friend,” I said in a low, menacing voice as I scooted closer to him and made sure he looked at me, “although I appreciate your friendship and value your opinions – somewhat – I wouldn’t go asking me such improper, disrespectful questions if I were you. I do believe it’s not your business what my beloved and I do in-between the sheets of her bed.”

“A-alright, alright – geez,” Husker muttered, visibly upset to some extent, and attempted to push away my mike… but I pushed it against his neck even harder.

“Good! Very good. Just keep that locked up tightly in your entertaining little cat brain. Wonderful.” I released him. “Also yes, gladly.”

Husker gasped for breath and rubbed his furry throat with an even furrier claw, moving further away from me and giving me the most angry glares he had given in in quite some time.

“What do you mean, ‘also yes, gladly’?”

I cast my eyes upwards, sighing. “Just let that simple answer get through that foggy, oblivious shipwreck of a mind of yours, dear Husker. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Husker wasn’t even listening to me anymore, he just growled and kept stroking over his neck.

“Fuckin’ psycho – almost fuckin’ choking me with your damn mike – can’t believe a fucker like _you_ got the most parts of himself redeemed out of _all_ the hotel’s sinners…”

“Yes,” I only said.

“What’s up with that, anyway?” Husker frowned at me and tried to swallow. “You’re one of the most _despicable_ creatures I know down here, and yet, you look like you’re pretty much halfway Heaven already!”

“That was quite a surprise for me as well,” I admitted. 

“Yeah? You _sure_ you didn’t _plan_ this, somehow?”

“Oh, silly, foolish Husker! Do you honestly believe man can _plan_ their redemption so very swimmingly? Just like – _snap_ – that? No no no!”

He finally stopped petting his throat. The face he made now was difficult for me to read. 

“So… by accident, you really are on your way to redemption? You _want_ to go to Heaven?”

I watched his confusion and chuckled. 

“No way,” he mumbled, shaking his head in disbelieve.

I opened my mouth to say something – only to get interrupted by a hyperactive Niffty, suddenly racing back into the relaxation room again.

“Okay okay okay,” she panted, “Charlie’s done changing – and she wants to come in – but! But but but you boys MUST look at her, okay? Husk! _Husk!”_

“Yeah yeah,” Husker said, tearing his eyes off me at last.

“No more gazing longingly at Al,” Niffty sternly told the cat demon – who’s jaw dropped in even _bigger_ disbelieve. “I know RadioHusk is a pretty decent ship as well – and you’re totally the top in my book Husk, you’d top the ever-loving _crap_ outta Alastor hahahahahahaha – but NO, no no no, you need to look at _Charlie_ now.”

The _‘what’_ Husker uttered sounded like he was slowly suffocating. I on the other hand wondered once more what shipments had to do with those strange names Niffty kept giving the people inside of the hotel, and what kind of shipments she was talking about. Such a strange little lady, that Niffty.

“Niffty?” Charlie quasi-nonchalantly entered the room again. “Uhm… I think you need to lace this cord on my back a bit more tightly – it feels like it’s too loose.”

As Niffty quickly rushed back to Charlie’s side and pulled on some ribbons and binds behind the blonde woman, I turned all of my attention to her and the lovely dress she was wearing – and my _goodness_ did she wear it like it was made for her.

Fortunately, the dress fitted her to a T. Like I had expected, the dress had a long skirt and the bottom part of it brushed over the floor, but barely – only lightly kissing the undeserving ground with its beautiful, rose-colored band and hem. For the most part though, the dress had a nice, kind, pastel yellow color, suitable for such a charming dame like Charlie. Almost her entire skirt was yellow and also the upper part of her dress – the bodice and the long sleeves, loosely clutching her upper arms – was yellow-colored. Some parts of the bodice were pink, like the lower parts of her sleeves and the middle part of the corset hugging her small waist. Charlie’s shoulders and neck were uncovered, except for the small cord that was tied behind Charlie’s neck, holding up the dress and supporting the weight of it.

She looked dazzling – _exquisite,_ even, and I found myself being unable to look away from such a wondrous, pleasant sight.

“G-god, thanks, Al.” Charlie gently pulled on a pluck of her hair. “I-I knew it suited me, but I didn’t think you’d like it _that_ much.” 

I blinked my eyes in surprise and gave her a timid smile. Apparently, I had thought out loud.   
  
“Damn it, princess, yeah, you’re pretty fuckin’ _beautiful_ alright,” Husker said, and I noticed some genuine admiration in his tone of voice. “Sure, you already were a very pretty girl, but now that you’re wearing a pretty dress, you’re double as pretty. You’re _prettier_ now.”

He then made a complicated face again. “Wow, that was lame. That sounded _way_ better in my head. Sorry.”

“It wasn’t lame at all! Thanks, Husk!” Charlie laughed and made a little twirl, before she padded towards me – and I actually felt my heart jumping a little when that stunning being all of a sudden was standing in front of me, beaming that lovely smile of hers at me – just _me._

“Why thank you so much for this present, mister Alastor, sir.” She bobbed a small curtsy for me. “I like it! I like it a lot.”

“It was my pleasure, my fair lady! Nothing but the best for the most gorgeous Princess of Hell!” To prove to her chivalry wasn’t dead, I stood up from the couch, took one of her hands in mine and bent down to press a kiss on the back of it.

“Ugh, this is getting too fuckin’ corny for me, and I was _already_ feelin’ fuckin’ nauseous,” Husker moaned, annoyed. “Screw this sappy shit – I’m going back to sleep off my hangover, with my face planted on the table, like a _normal_ person.”

“Yea,” Niffty agreed, while Husker walked/floated away, “I should probably get busy cleaning up the mess as well – oh but it was nice getting you dressed Charlie!! Now gimme that box – I’ll throw it away! I’LL THROW IT AWAY SO HARD!”

Charlie gave the smaller girl the box and the remnants of the wrapping paper, and we both watched her sprint away with it, until it was just the two of us in the relaxation room (Husker was already knocked out over at his table, so he didn’t count as a living being right now).

We both sat down on the couch again. I kept on holding both of her hands, gently squeezing them as she observed me with those big, wondering eyes or hers.

“So you love the dress,” I concluded. “That’s a relief! I was hoping you would.”

“Of course, Al. I like wearing dresses.” Charlie laughed a bit. “But I’m not sure when I should wear it – I don’t think I can wear it during work.”

“Oh no, don’t wear it during your work activities – your beauty is wasted on that.” I fumbled with her hands, her fingers. “No, you should definitely wear it _tomorrow._ When your hotel’s visitors drop by. You always need look your best when your parents come visiting you, after all.”

Maybe it was in bad taste, but I still smirked, enjoying and admiring the beautiful, bewildered expression on Charlie’s face as realization dawned on her. 

“Please tell me you’re talking about _your_ parents.”

Chuckling at her hopeful tone, I shook my head. “I’m afraid both of my parents were too decent to end up in Hell, my dear.” 

“So… _my_ parents are…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She got white around the nose and sighed, trembling a bit. “Oh _god.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I'll ever read 'Brideshead Revisited'. Not because the story isn't appealing to me, but because it's a pretty 'normal', yet hard-to-understand book, in comparison to all the other works of fiction I still need to read. I'll just try and tell my local library to put it aside for me - if they even have it, that is.  
> The book's about Charles Ryder, who befriends the flamboyant Sebastian Flyte, who comes from a wealthy family of enthusiastic English Catholics. Charles and Sebastian happen to spend a lot of time together at Brideshead Castle, Sebastians family home, and Charles begins to grow closer to both Sebastian as well as Sebastians sister, Julia. Then all kinds of scandalous and less scandalous things happen and Charles ends up disillusioned, while Sebastian most likely dies somewhere along the way. Yeah… yeah.  
> This book apparently was very much frowned upon after it got published, because critics thought the book 'promoted homosexuality as an acceptable lifestyle' to young men. Which is horrible, of course. *rolls eyes*


	40. All the King's Men (Robert Penn Warren)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Lilith discuss Charlie's love life. Lucifer decides to give Alastor a 'call'.

Yesterday, I think it was around… hmm, lunchtime, probably, when the beautiful, mesmerizing, breathtaking Queen of my Heart and Lungs and Other Functioning Organs (an important title indeed) told me about our dear daughter Charlotte. 

We were seated in our favorite dining room – the dark red one, with the lovely black curtains, wooly carpet and silver chandeliers. There was a nice little breeze blowing through the freshly-cleaned windows – Razzle and Dazzle were bored, you see – and everything was perfect, just simply pitch-perfect!

“Charlie is seeing somebody,” Lilith said, while taking a decisive little bite from our marvelous lunch with her marvelous mouth and marvelous teeth. 

“Well how nice for her!” I nodded, slicing up the tasty pastry on my silver plate as neatly as I could. “Tell me – what’s the new ladyfriend’s name?”

Lilith smiled and looked up from her own meal. “Luci, why do you automatically assume she’s dating a girl? You know Charlie swings both ways, don’t you?”

I shrugged and took a bite of my food. “I guess I think Charlotte is more of a – a _girl-kind_ of lover. Like… she should just date cute girls. That’s my humble opinion. They suit her _better,_ you know? A pretty, adorable girl like the fruit of our love should have a pretty, adorable girl at her side. Not some… _dude.”_

“That would make her a full-blown lesbian, apple pie.”

“That’s alright with me!”

“I _know_ it’s alright with you – but she’s bisexual, so she likes dating guys as well. As she’s doing _now.”_

“Oh. She is? Oh.” 

I swallowed. For some reason, I just didn’t enjoy my tasty pastry all that much anymore and put my cutlery down. 

“Well then, who’s this sorry bloke that’s bothering her, hmm? I might just need to pay him a quick visit to yell and wag a stern finger at him. And maybe burn parts of his face off.”

 _“Why_ do you need to—”

“I don’t _know,_ I just _want_ to.” I heaved and now pricked my very sharp fork into the doughy pie in front of me like it was Charlotte’s newfound boyfriend. 

There – and _there!_ Suffer, Charlotte’s newfound boyfriend! _Bwhahahaha!_

“You always were a bit childish,” Lilith sighed, but chuckled nevertheless. I smirked and gazed at her longingly, as she ran a _classy_ hand through her hair, brushing some long, blonde bangs out of her hypnotically handsome face. People made _songs_ about that face, I was sure.

“By the way, she’s dating the Radio Demon.” 

I hummed noncommittedly, drifting further along in my dreamy mood. Oh, I dared to bet puny humans even made _sculptures_ of Lilith’s giant, gorgeous feminine body and painted the most _wonderful_ paintings of everything my fancy Queen represented, for certain. Hell, I bet they even— 

The heavy chair I sat on was easily knocked over when I stood up so abruptly I nearly flung it against the wall behind me.

“She is dating _**WHO?”**_

“Alastor, apple pie – that one overlord that broadcast his insane carnage of Hell’s other ruling demon lords a few decades ago, live on the radio? You once said he had a ‘wicked mind, but a damn good smile, too’? Don’t tell me you forgot about him. You two even went hunting half a year ago.” Lilith calmly took another bite. “Anyway, you might have forgotten this already, but Alastor decided to help Charlie out a few months ago. I even told you about what an unusual thing that was for Alastor to do – but I suppose it still slipped your mind, judging on your facial expression.”

I just wheezed and clutched my chest.

“Sit down, Luci, and strop crumpling up the table cloth. This is our finest one. They don’t make lacy table cloths like these anymore – as the ‘they’ who made this have been… taken care of by your former friends.”

“Oh! So sorry, my Queen.”

I nicely put the chair back in its original spot, stroke over the table cloth to try and get the wrinkled bits out and sat down on my chair again. There we go.

_But!_

After I had done that, I smacked a firm hand on the table, getting a pleasant, hard bang out of it!

“That Radio Demon’s _using_ her! Obviously! To get power over me – power over _Hell!”_

“Yes, I was worried at first as well – I don’t know him all that well, but I also believed he was up to no good when Charlie told me about him,” Lilith continued. “However, you shouldn’t worry too much, angel face. I’ve done my fair share of research on him in the past few hours and I’ve talked to some of my informants, and it seems like he’s _serious_ about our lovely apple beignet.”

“Bullshit! He’s _using_ her! Obviously! To get power over me – power over _Hell!”_   
  
“Stop repeating yourself, Luci, it’s not going to change anything anyway.” Lilith was done eating and gently dabbed her lips with a chic little napkin. “He’s seemingly in love with Charlie and the feelings are mutual. These are the facts. You’ll just have to accept them.” 

I folded my fingers and hands together and leered over them, making my eyes meet hers. 

“My stunning, superb Queen – do you really believe that? That Alastor doesn’t have ulterior motives for sleeping around with - **_oh lord he slept with her didn’t he_ **– oh, no, wait, he’s not interested in that.” I stopped rambling and breathed out, relieved. “Thank the stars – I don’t feel like having fucked-up gross deer-grandbabies.”

I laughed wryly, still looking at Lilith.

Who _looked away._

“Lili?” I pleaded, getting up from the chair and taking a few desperate steps into her direction.

“Um,” Lilith said, scratching her cheek.

I groaned – and slowly fell on the black carpet in a theatrical fashion, gripping my chest once more. “No, nononononono, don’t go ‘um’ – nothing good ever comes from you going ‘um’…”

“Well…”

“Lili. Look at me. I’m on the _floor_ for you. On my _knees.”_

“I – can see that, and it’s _very_ dramatic, but it is what it is, angel face.” The Queen of Hell and my heart was ruthless – yet oh so good-looking. “Sorry, Luci. When I talked to our daughter, it sure sounded like Charlie and Alastor had indeed… consummated their relationship already.”

“Oh _SHIT._ I'm going to have _FUCKED-UP GROSS DEER-GRANDBABIES_.”

Lilith snorted and shook her head. “I don’t think Charlie’s thinking about having children already, apple pie.” 

I was simply _baffled_ by Lilith’s serene, cool demeanor. Did she _honestly_ trust that the feared Radio Demon, who had slaughtered many people by life and even _more_ demons after death, had _sincerely_ fallen in love with our beloved Charlotte, did she _really_ believe those sources of hers, and just why, WHY was she so _sure_ this wasn’t all part of one of his evil, unpredictable schemes to – oh I don’t know, just let me think about it one sec – take over fucking _Hell???_   
  
“Because _he_ was behind that silly reading assignment thing that got many of Charlie’s sinners partly redeemed, apple pie. Remember? And he only did that to please Charlie – to make her happy,” Lilith composedly explained after my wailing questions. “Also, he apparently is the sole sinner that, because of that good deed, got _most_ parts of himself redeemed, somehow. Like he _wants_ to better himself and go to Heaven.”

That’s when I finally calmed down a bit and started to recollect my thoughts. 

And that’s also when I, shortly after, decided to contact Alastor as soon as possible.  
  


**LLL  
  
**

When Alastor and I were still on speaking terms (because we sure as hell _weren’t_ that close anymore _now,_ even though he probably had no idea we weren’t anymore, but whatever, screw that psycho daughter-fucker), he once told me he had this… inner radio frequency device. 

He had died a human, came to as a sinner in Hell, and then he had noticed his beloved job as a radio host was, somehow, brought with him to the afterlife as well, since elements of radio stations, radio noises, radio audiences and even eerie and deeply upsetting static tunes had gotten literally tangled up with and within his very body and being. His voice didn’t sound human anymore, but like the transmitted voice of an over-the-top radio broadcaster, upbeat and yet weirdly strained, almost fake. 

However, Alastor had also admitted he didn’t always sound like that – only when he felt like fucking around with the people surrounding him, or if he was being insincere. He was able to talk like a regular human being just fine, but he grew tired of that rather quickly. It didn’t really entertain him, unless he could use it to rattle people by rapidly switching between his radio voice and his normal voice. _Then_ it was entertaining and therefore beneficial for him to use it, he had sunnily explained.

Hah, yeah. Yeah…

He was such a fucking _tool._

Nevertheless – he also was a walking and talking radio station with actual radio frequencies.

And do you know what one could do with radio frequencies?

That’s right: they could try to hijack them and send out certain messages!

As I was planning to do _right now_! 

Walking swiftly (but not running – never running, Lilith didn’t like it if I rampaged around the palace like some sort of barbaric madman), I stormed into my private quarters. I opened the dark, large doors with a flourish, like _wham,_ and I went and searched for the handy device I had let my servants made several years ago, shortly after Alastor had told me in confidence he practically _was_ a radio station in the body of a serial killer in the body of a Deer Demon.  
He sure had a lot of layers and/or bodies, didn’t he.

The machinery was a useful little thing – it looked like some sort of walkie-talkie, but it was much, much more than that. With it, I could contact Alastor, no matter where he was and what he was doing, and… _talk to him_! 

That was all, really.

Yes.

Now that I said it out loud it actually didn’t sound all that remarkable BUT!

If _he_ wanted to contact _me,_ he _couldn’t!_

The power to beep him up and preach the shit out of him was mine and mine _alone!_

HaHA!  
  


**LLL  
  
**

Unfortunately, Lilith wasn’t exactly convinced of the brilliance of it all when I returned to our luxurious, sweetly Pink Lady-colored living room, triumphantly waving around my wonderful hacking device. 

“So you’re basically giving him a phone call,” she concluded after I had explained to her what its function was, absentmindedly playing around with her ridiculously long and laughably amazing hair.

 _“No,”_ I huffed, crossing my arms while holding the device – which was doable, but not exactly comfortable, “I’m not giving him just a phone call – I’m giving him a phone call he is _unable to ignore or end!_ ”

“How impressive.”

I felt myself deflate a bit. “Why don’t you look all that impressed, then?”

“That’s called sarcasm, Luci – you’re staring in the pretty face of sarcasm.”

“Well pretty it is,” I admitted, winking at her. 

She smiled back. “Although… I have to admit that Alastor probably wouldn’t exactly _appreciate_ you, suddenly seeking contact with him, while he has _no_ say in the matter whatsoever. He’s known for his need to have control over everything he does and plans. Calling him out of the blue like that will most definitely startle him.”

“That’s good,” I contently said and put the small hacking device down on the nice saloon table Lilith was enjoying her quiet time (well not for long, I guess). “It doesn’t matter how powerful and intimidating that red freak show is – every once in a while, he needs to be reminded that there’s only one King in hell, and that King is _me.”_

“You are very handsome when you talk big like that,” Lilith purred, leaning on the table (that groaned grievously under her beauteous weight) and batting her luscious eyelashes at me like the grand, giant… butterflies they were. 

I felt a rush of newfound love for my lovely wife and straightened my back at her heartfelt compliment. Then, I cleared my throat. “Alright then – observe, my Queen, how I give that Radio Demon a ‘call’ and tell him _exactly_ what I think of him and his dangerous liaisons with our precious baby girl!”

A small, snickering smile crept around the corners of her mouth and her eyes gave mine a critical look. “Luci, you _are_ aware Charlie’s a grown, adult woman already, aren’t y—”

 _“Hush,_ my unworthy heart’s keeper – I’m starting _now!”_ I hastily said, before she could talk some sense into me, and began to – blindly – press several buttons and twist switches. I had to tune in to Alastor’s FM. Now, the only thing I had to do was find that blasted radio frequency…  
  


**LLL  
  
**

For a couple of minutes, all that was audible in the living room were the consistent, high-pitched bleeps, dings, buzzes and long-stretched screeches of the hacking device – and my own muttered curses – as I fumbled around with it and Lilith looked on, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“But even _if_ you manage to get a frequency that’s not riddled with static noise, how will you even _know_ you got the right frequency?” she wanted to know.

Ahh, my intelligent, unbelievable, quick-witted Lilith – she was the single reason why people on Earth had a saying that was called ‘playing the Devil’s advocate’. She was mine, all right. She was mine alone.

I laughed, although with every minute that passed I felt like smashing the stupid machinery up even more. “Simple, my Queen! I’ll just ask the recipient!”

“…you’ll _ask_ if they are Alastor?”

“That’s right!”

“Forgive me, apple pie, but your plan sounds kind of dumb.”

“Ha, or so you would _think!”_ I raised a finger, ready to stress the point I was about to tell her. “However, Lili, do tell me: how many demons and sinners in Hell have a built-in radio frequency?”

“Not too many, probably,” she admitted. “I’m not even sure there are more monstrosities like Alastor in Hell.”

“Exactly!” I noticed the white noise got a bit less, so I tried to turn the buttons on my device more carefully. “So there is a reasonable chance I get to contact our fabled Radio Demon – maybe sooner than you might expect!”

 _“Why, maybe you’ve already reached him,”_ the device, in-between the many breedles and beeps, suddenly scoffed at me – and I almost let out a very manly yelp, yet I didn’t. No, instead, I cleared my throat, shot a happy grin towards Lilith (who _was_ impressed this time and smiled back at me!) and got myself ready to use my Big Man-voice.

**“Is this Alastor, the so-called Radio Demon?”**

_“Speaking.”_

**“This is your King – Lucifer Magne, Ruler of Hell.”**

_“Oh my god, Alastor,”_ a woman’s voice chirped on the background, _“you can’t just waltz into my warehouse and start talking like our Lord all of a sudden!”_

Alastor heaved a sigh. _“Rosie, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it. His Royal Highness has apparently hijacked my inner radio.”_

 _“Well go stand over there with all your hijacked thingamajigs, why don’t you,”_ the woman nagged. _“I’m losing paying customers if you’re standing around looking all creepy like this and sounding all foreboding like that!”_

_“You’re right – a minute, Sire, I’ll go to a spot where we can speak in peace.”_

**“I will wait,”** I stately said.

As Alastor went to look for a place to talk to me, I couldn’t help grin smugly. Yeah, am I awesome or what – I managed to contact Alastor! And it didn’t even take me that long! Kudos for me!

I even shot a dazzling smile at Lilith, who rolled her eyes and mimed _‘focus!’_ back at me. Oh! Oh, yeah. That was important!

 _“I suppose this is a suitable room,”_ I heard Alastor murmur, and then a door, closing near him. _“Alright then, Your Royal Highness – to what do I owe the pleasure to… have you talk to me like this?”_

Ha! He didn’t even greet me and I could sense some uncertainty and annoyance in this tone of voice. He, for sure, was thoroughly overwhelmed with my sudden call.

Great!

 **“Alastor,”** I said, **“it has come to my attention that you are in a romantic relationship with my daughter – Princess Charlotte Magne.”**

_“She told you, Sire?”_

“Oh no, my darling Charlotte never wants to talk to me. She told Lilith over the phone and Lilith told me during lunch,” I explained. Lilith signaled wildly to me, after which I realized my mistake, and I faked a cough. **“Pardon me – I have a nasty cold. It makes my voice sound like that of an ordinary man, while I’m clearly no ordinary man.”**

 _“I see. Well.”_ Alastor paused for a few seconds. _“It’s true, I am seeing your daughter. She’s a very sweet, caring and lovely girl and I’ve grown to love her a lot. It’s quite a new experience for me so far, and I can’t say I enjoy everything about it, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. Charlie is a wonderful woman. I’m happy she wants to be with me.”_

**“I don’t want you to be with her, though.”**

_“Is that so.”_

**“That is so.”**

_“Pardon my insolence, my Lord, but what are you going to do about it?”_ I could swear I heard him cackle. “ _I have no intentions to end things with your daughter and I’m fairly sure she doesn’t want to terminate our relationship, either. Are you going to forcibly break us up? Are you going to threaten to kill me if I don’t keep my distance from her, perhaps? I don’t think your precious daughter would like that. But who cares, right – it wouldn’t be the first time you’d let her down!”_

His cackling got louder. He _knew_ about my and Charlie’s rocky relationship – he _knew_ he could use that against me. Dammit, that _asshole._ I growled. His mocking tone made me want to hurl things at him, but that was difficult to do in this particular situation. 

Searching for help, I looked over at Lilith, hoping she’d lend me a hand here.

Alas – she shook her head dismissively. “Apple pie, I don’t even _know_ why you’re doing this.”

 _“Your Highness.”_ Alastor sounded a bit more upbeat now, as if he, too, realized he actually had the upper hand here, even though I had surprised him with my sudden radio-hacking. _“I understand you might have some reservations about me being with Charlie. However, I can assure you I have no ill intentions. I want nothing but the best for her.”_

A thought popped up in my mind, out of the blue, and I reacted accordingly. 

**“I heard many parts of you got redeemed overnight.”**

_“...yes?”_ He seemed caught off guard.

**“You got the most changes out of all of Charlotte’s sinners. It’s even very much possible you keep on restoring your former, human body until you are one once more. Is that what you’re striving for, Alastor? Do you wish to ascend to Heaven? Because I can tell you that you will need a whole lot more redemption before somebody like you, with everything you’ve done to others, will be able to get a place in Heaven. Simply letting sinners read books and being a supportive partner for my daughter isn’t enough to get an Angel from above to come down and check on you.”**

He chuckled, amused. _“Oh no no no, Sire, I don’t want to go to Heaven at all! I was just as surprised as everybody else was, when I found out how much I had changed. I’m not planning to ‘better’ myself, not in the slightest – I find myself good enough as I am! So much for redemption!”_

I’m not exactly sure why, but the way he _laughed_ at the mere possibility of getting redeemed made me angry. 

**“You still don’t think you can be redeemed, even though you’ve reformed yourself the most of all?”**

_“That’s right. I can’t be redeemed. I’m unredeemable.”_ A soft, somewhat sad chuckle. _“I told Charlie this as well. She wanted to believe me, but the way she looked at me this morning – I think there are more pleasant ways to die than that - that strange way Charlie looked at me. Her pain was tangible.”_

**“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”**

_“Oh but I’m keeping this promise.”_

**“You don’t know that.”**

_“I do know that.”_ Another pause. _“Besides, you said so yourself, Sire: I’ll need a lot more redemption before I deserve to even speak with a Heavenly being about ascending to Paradise. But that’s not going to happen – and it’s not needed, either. I’ve found my own Heavenly being already, and that’s your charming daughter. She’s a lot kinder, warmer and more entertaining to me than any winged creature could ever be. So I’ll be with her, for as long as she wants, even if that’s eternity.”_

**“You can’t screw around with fate like that, Alastor,”** I roared, since he was pissing me off, with his ‘I’ll be with Charlie forever hahahahahaha fight me’. **“And you _know_ Charlotte ultimately _wants you_ to go to Heaven. If you really love her so much, you should do everything in your power to get to Heaven.” **

That – strong, I had to say – argument was met with dead silence. 

I gave Lilith a glance, who didn’t say anything either. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to accomplish by sneering at Alastor he should do his best and try to redeem himself already (probably just get him out of Charlotte’s life, since I still believed he was up to no good), but it clearly did have some sort of impact on him: the silence carried on for quite a while.

Then, he spoke up again, startling both me and Lilith. 

_“Dear Sire, would you like to pay your daughter a visit? Check on her – see for yourself just how well she’s been doing for the past few months? I know she’s been desperately trying to get her mother to visit her, but see this as an opportunity to come over yourself as well.”_

“That’s a good idea,” Lilith mused somewhere behind me – but I gripped the hacking device more tightly. 

“How the hell do _you_ know about Charlotte’s nightly phone calls to her mother?”

He snorted. _“Your accent’s slipping again, Your Highness.”_

“Fuck my accent – I want to know! Charlotte always calls her mom when she’s in bed! Have you been sleeping with her?” 

_“Why of course I have. For_ weeks _already.”_ Alastor’s menacing, pestering laugh clung to me like the leftover pastry’s dough, stuck between my teeth. _“You should see the marks she left on me.”_

“Oh my – I don't want to _KNOW_ about the marks she left on you!”

 _“Oh – in that case, perhaps you’d be more interested in the marks I left on_ her, _then.”_

“THAT’S EVEN _WORSE!”_ I started jabbing a finger against the defenseless little device. “I swear, you red douchebag, if you tainted my innocent Charlotte’s fair skin like you claim you did, I’ll fucking **skin you alive** and feed the leftovers of your worthless carcass to the hounds of Hell!”

 _“Oh my,”_ Alastor sniggered. _“Please don’t drop by tomorrow, then. Allow Charlie’s body to heal, first.”_

“TOMORROW IT IS!”

I wanted to scream at him some more, but Lilith had stood up from her chair and gently put a slim hand on my chest, giving me a little push. I fell backwards, into my own chair, and sat there, steaming, my hands two fisted balls of flesh.

“Alastor?” Lilith said to the hacking device.

 _“Good afternoon, Queen Lilith,”_ Alastor responded, his voice sounding a lot more respectful now he was talking to my wife. _“So you are there as well. I should have known. I do apologize for that silly spat between your husband and I, just now. I hope you are well?”_  
  
“I am, thank you – and I’m sorry for my husband, he tends to get a bit… _emotional_ when it’s about our only daughter.” Lilith leaned towards the piece of machinery, placing her hands on both sides of the saloon table. “Now, Alastor. I’m sure you are well aware that you will be brutally decimated the moment Lucifer and I discover you have been playing around with Charlie all along. I don’t care how strong, ruthless and insane people claim you are. I don’t care Charlie will try and stop us. I don’t care what other sinners and demons will end up getting killed in the process. I don’t care about any of that. I only care about Charlie. **Don’t hurt Charlie**. You have been warned.”

The only response Alastor had to that, was the static buzzing of his own, inner radio station. 

That didn’t satisfy Lilith. “Alastor. Speak _up._ Was I clear enough for you or do I need to repeat myself?” 

_“Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”_

“Good.” Lilith moved her shoulders back and forth, loosening them up a little. “We come visit Charlie’s hotel tomorrow, around lunchtime. Dress up for the occasion, will you?”

_“Yes, I will—”_

“And now I’ve grown bored.” Lilith turned off the hacking device by pressing an impatient finger to the power-button and didn’t pay it any more attention.

I looked up at her in awe, as the woman of my dreams and my reality crouched down in front of me and collected my dazzled face in her large hands.

“That was _amazing,_ apple pie! You certainly showed that Radio Demon who’s king!”

“I did?” I said, while Lilith squeezed my cheeks. “I mean – yeah, I sure _did,_ didn’t I? _That’ll_ teach that asshole!”

“We have to go shopping now, though. I can’t show up at Charlie’s place in these old rags,” Lilith said, gesturing to the beautiful robes she wore. Nevertheless, I agreed with her right away and jumped up from my chair, holding on to my Queen’s hands like the precious things of fierce beauty they were.

“Well, what are we waiting for, then? We have to prepare ourselves for visiting our lovely daughter’s hotel tomorrow! To the _Magne-Mobile_!”

I could hear Lilith’s delighted and endeared chuckles following me suit as I left the living room, with my head held up high and the most wonderful being in Hell right behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warren's book's title was drawn from the nursery rhyme 'Humpty Dumpty'. I know not much about this particular nursery rhyme, since I've grown up with other nursery rhymes and songs - naturally, I'd almost say. I only know about Humpty Dumpty from the books written by Lewis Carroll, but apparently, the nursery rhyme about this… egg-man has been around even before Carroll wrote his books!  
> Now, about the novel itself. It's about a powerful and charismatic politician, named Willie Stark - but the story itself is being told by the journalist Jack Burden. Burden wonders how and why Stark's rise to fame went as swimmingly as it apparently did and tries to uncover the truth about the famed governor by telling Stark's story... but by doing that, he gets his own personal story mixed up with that of Stark. You, the reader, increasingly start to wonder just who to believe anymore, as there seems to be some blatant parallels between the columnist and the politician.  
> 'All the King's Men' was challenged in Dallas because it depicts a 'depressing way of life' and because it describes certain 'immoral situations'. Make of that what you will.


	41. Naked Lunch (William S. Burroughs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Lilith pay Charlie's hotel a little visit. Things get a bit tense.

Upon arriving at our dear daughter’s abysmal hotel, my luscious Lilith and I couldn’t help but eye the bizarre mixture of windows, stories, a _boat,_ neon lights and weird circus-y tents and themes and eyes and what-not in front of us with barely-hidden disdain, like we had never seen it before. 

We _had,_ though – it was once something like a… holiday home for our little family, quite some decades ago. It once was a grand chalet, but it had slowly fallen into a state of disrepair over the years, as Lilith, Charlotte and I just stopped visiting the home at a certain moment. I didn’t really know what the reason behind that was – I guess we simply forgot about it. 

Charlotte _never_ forgot about it, sadly enough – and while Lilith and I never paid much mind to the house ever again, our child continued to adore the building and even went as far as to make up a plan to use it to her courageous, yet way too ambitious project in the near future.

Without us knowing about it, Charlotte started to save up money to buy the holiday home from my hands. She never wanted any allowance and had always worked hard for every single coin she got in her life – so it took her several decades before she was finally gutsy enough to step up and ask me to sell her the rights of the mansion. I didn’t know back then what her _exact_ plan with the building was – I just assumed she was looking for a home for her and Vaggie to renovate and eventually move into, to carry on their lovely lesbian lives or something – and so, I was happy to sell it to her! _More_ than happy, even!

Later on, I found out what Charlotte’s _actual_ goal was with the chalet, and I fiercely demanded her to quit her foolish ideas and just – come back home and do things more becoming for a Demon Princess to do, before Hell’s citizens would ridicule her even more than they already did. 

Oh don’t worry – we made many of them **pay** for that, alright. But the laughter never really stopped, and neither did the insults hurled towards our humiliated, yet stubborn little daughter.

Charlotte refused to listen to her mother and I, no matter what we said, and no matter what others said – or what they _did_ to her. It was unbearable for me and my Queen to watch. In time, Lilith and I simply… gave up on trying to talk this whole redemption plan of Charlotte out of her head and took our hands off of her. 

While Lilith, who had always been put on a pedestal by Charlotte, managed to still have a fairly good relationship with our daughter, making her swear to call her every day, Charlotte seemed to loathe _me,_ most of the time.

Okay, I’ll admit I… said some harsh things to her, the day she left home for good and moved into her ‘hotel’, as she was calling the mansion all of a sudden. Things that hurt her. Things that made her believe I thought she was a failure. I didn’t _mean_ those things – I was only trying to get through to that thick skull of hers and… well, I let my emotions get the better of me. 

But as long as Charlotte refused to say this rehabilitation hotel of hers was a sham and bound to make her unhappy in the long run, I wouldn’t tell her I was sorry about that.

Yeah, so I was childish like that – so _what!_ It wasn’t like she had come to _me_ to say sorry for all the hurtful things she had told me! So _there!_ Cry me a river!

Still, I felt like there was like a huge, _fat_ guy sitting upon my shoulders, as Lilith and I approached the reddish-and-pinkish hotel, and I swallowed multiple stress-lumps down my throat.

I know my little apple beignet had sounded a lot friendlier on the phone than usual, the last time she called and had actually wanted to talk to _me_ – but what if her eyes would still have that same, cold harshness in them as Lilith’s had, whenever she was mad at me?

(I swear, that girl was like a younger, feminine version of me – but whenever she got angry, she was the spitting image of her marvelous mother!)

“Don’t worry, apple pie,” Lilith soothed me as I informed her about my worried thoughts, “Charlie will be _glad_ to see you, I’m sure. After all, _you_ told her the information she had wanted and hoped you’d tell her, even if it eventually turned out to be a rather small step for the residents of her hotel. She’ll be happy to have the both of us over.”

“This place still looks like shit, by the way,” I commented, looking around me as Lilith locked her arm into mine and walked with me towards the front door, hidden within the circus tent entrance (I mean I kind of liked that playful touch, sure, but what the hell was _up_ with that, really??).

Lilith frowned at my remark and lightly smacked my arm. “Oh hush, angel face – if Charlie hears you chewing out her hotel, she’ll give you the cold shoulder _right_ from the get-go. You wouldn’t like that, now, would you?”

“No,” I moped, “and I _also_ wouldn’t like the local murderous _psychopath_ as my fucking _son-in-law_.”

“As long as they’re not married, he’s just the boyfriend, apple pie. Just the guy she happens to... date. Yes. Let's call it date.” Lilith tapped her lips with a finger, as she obviously pondered over something. “And let’s be honest. He _is_ kind of attractive.”

I gasped. “No he’s _not!”_

“I can see why Charlie finds him appealing, really.”

 _“ET TU, BRUTE!”_

Lilith giggled and wanted to say something – probably that she was joking _oh my lord I hope she was joking I couldn’t handle losing both my daughter and my wife to that red fuckboy’s charms OH SHIT NO HE WOULDN’T STEAL THEM NOW OR WOULD HE_ – when all of a sudden, the extremely _gaudy_ front door opened with a slight screech.

And _there_ she was.

Charlotte appeared in the door opening with a smile, wearing a gorgeous dress that made her look like the most _adorable_ cheesecake I had ever seen. She grinned nervously at both her inquisitive parents and seemed to be unable to stop fumbling with her hands. 

_Aww!_ How _cute!_

She was so utterly _cute!_

“H-hi mom – dad. Uhm… long time no see. I-I…”

Charlotte began to stutter and found it hard to get the right words out – until someone’s hand casually took one of hers, weaving their fingers together and giving hers a squeeze. Charlotte glanced aside and calmed down pretty much instantly, before turning back to face me and her mother. 

“Alright, um – Mother! Father! I welcome the two of you to my Happy Hotel, the place to be for every lost soul and forsaken sinner that needs and wants to be redeemed!”

Lilith greeted her back with a polite nod of the head and I, too, managed a hello, before I narrowed my eyes to the guy that had so very _blatantly_ snatched my daughter’s hand like that. I had expected to see the Radio Demon standing next to her, of course, but it was some sort of… fucking _abomination?_ Some… _man demon_ , with these creepy-ass asymmetric eyes, a fucked-up grin from ear to ear and the damn _guts_ to look at Charlotte like he’d fucking marry her on the spot if he could, as he patted her hand.

The fucking _nerve!_

“Who’s _that?”_ I interrupted Charlotte’s explanation of what we would be eating for lunch, bopping my head towards the crazy guy next to her.

Charlotte’s face fell – and even Lilith gave me a rather displeased look. 

“Luci – try to be _nice,_ angel face.”

I wanted to protest, but then I noticed Charlotte’s disappointed face once more – and my shoulders slouched somewhat.

“Oh. Um. Sorry, honey – I didn’t mean to… _waltz_ right through your story. Please, do go on – you can tell me who the nut job next to you is later.”

Said nut job chuckled. “Oh my.”

Charlotte, however, wasn’t quite as amused – and her eyebrows furrowed as she took a firmer hold on the creep’s hand. 

“This ‘nut job’ is Alastor, dad. The Radio Demon? You two even met a couple of times.”

“Indeed – and good afternoon, Your Highnesses. Allow me,” Charlie’s hand-kidnapper smiled, bending his lanky body forwards to take Lilith’s free hand in his own.

While my Queen’s hand was being kissed by the fiend (what the _hell),_ my jaw dropped in bewilderment. _“That’s_ Alastor?”

“Yes, dad.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. 

“But he barely _looks_ like Alastor!”

“That’s because his appearances have altered a lot ever since his redeeming process started, apple pie,” Lilith reminded me. “You’re so forgetful.”

“Yes, but still! _Look_ at him! _Damn,”_ I said. “I mean, good gracious!”

“Yeah – _whatever,_ dad.” Charlotte sighed and rubbed her temple for a bit – but quickly recovered and put a smile back on her face again.

“Anyway – I’m happy you’re here. I’ll give you two a nice tour around the house later and I’ll tell you everything you need to know about what has happened the last couple of weeks, but first, let’s go have lunch, shall we? Vaggie’s prepared a very tasty vegetarian meal for us!” 

Lilith hummed interestedly – but both me and the Discount Radio Demon exchanged none too enthusiastic glances with one another. Ah, of course – Alastor was an avid meat lover as well, if I recalled correctly.

As he grinned knowingly at me (the ‘we both know this food’s going to suck massive balls but I guess we have no choice’-kind of grin), I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t too bad.   
  


**LLL  
**   
  


Surely, lunch wasn’t too bad, in all honesty.

At first, that is.

Charlotte and Almost Alastor lead us to the dining room – the room that was _very_ clearly almost never used, since it already seemed to be the most proper and luxurious chamber of the entire hotel. There, a neatly made table was waiting for us. With the polished cutlery and fancy tableware and other deluxe doohickeys and everything.

No matter how nonchalantly she tried to talk about it, Charlotte had put a lot of thought into this lunch, I figured – so I decided to keep my complaints about the boring, green food (everything was just so very _green)_ to myself and chewed on a piece of cabbage like I was indeed the rabbit it made me believe I was.

Lilith, Charlotte and Barely Alastor in the meantime held an engaging conversation about how nice it was to finally be able to meet up like this, yada yada, and Lilith was so very pleased to see Charlotte still kept the family pictures of us on the walls of the hotel, and she said she was also pleasantly surprised to see a nicer, more charming side of the Radio Demon.

“I do apologize for my snappish behavior at the – _phone,_ last time we spoke,” my wonderful wife told Alastor, as she took a sip of her wine. “I was a bit testy. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

Alastor laughed and waved her apology away. “Oh that is _quite_ alright, Your Majesty! I understand – it was a pretty unusual situation we had found ourselves in, after all.”

“Thanks to a certain somebody,” Lilith said, giving me a look.

“Yes,” Alastor agreed, glancing towards me as well.

“Oh?” Charlotte said, as she, too, eyed me suspiciously.

And I just sat there with my mouth filled with… greenery, and wasn’t able to respond without spraying bits of leaves and other green things around the table. 

So I simply shrugged and continued to struggle with the food.

“Anyway,” Lilith said, putting down her glass, “how many sinners do you have in your hotel right now, my sweet?”

“Hm, about… 50 sinners, I’d say,” Charlotte replied, tapping a finger against her jaw.

“I see. And how many of them show signs of redemption?” 

“Al?” Charlotte turned to Alastor for help. “I… think you know this better than me, haha…”

Her laugh sounded a bit hollow, even though I could tell she did her best to put an upbeat tone in it.

So _‘Al’_ cast his ill-matched eyes up to the ceiling of the room, as if he could find the answer up there somewhere, the _douche._

“I suppose… eight sinners got parts of their demonic bodies reformed.”

“How do you know that?” I wanted to know. 

Charlotte and he both looked at me in silence for a little while, before Charlotte smiled faintly and took another bite of her green stuff. Alastor, who firstly gave her a somewhat concerned look, then cleared his throat and explained.

“My claw-shaped hands were changed back into human ones, my hair changed (in multiple ways), I got my original skin color back, my teeth are neither yellow nor sharp anymore, my height seems to have been reduced (just a tad, but still), my eyesight has gone bad, my left eye isn’t red anymore and – well – this morning, I discovered I seem to have lost them, as well.”

“Them?” Lilith asked. 

“My invisible radio audience.” Alastor smiled neutrally. “Can’t say I’ll miss them too much, though. They always got a bit nosy and bothersome whenever they felt I wasn’t being honest enough to myself or the people around me.”

“I kind of liked them,” Charlotte said. 

“You did?” Alastor was taken aback by that.

“Yeah.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “They realized things sooner than _you_ did.”

He beamed one right back at her and moved a thumb over her cheek, removing a piece of carrot sticking on her skin.

“They liked you too, my love.”

I shuddered. Ughhhhh. Damn – Alastor was _mushy_ as _fuck._ Which was really surreal, especially in combination with him flirting with my daughter. 

Didn’t know how I felt about that. _Did_ know that I was happy I had put the knife down. 

I blinked as a couple of puzzle pieces in my head fell on their rightful spots. 

“Wait a minute – so anytime one of the hotel’s sinners get one of their deformities redeemed, _your_ body gets party redeemed as well?”

Alastor stopped drooling over my daughter and gave me a nod. “So it seems.”

“Oh,” Lilith softly said. “That… _could_ mean you’re well on your way to redemption, Alastor.”

I wanted to shake my head in disagreement – he needed to do _much_ more than just read a few lousy books and do some good deeds to get into Heaven, no matter how much his looks seemed to have changed – but Alastor actually beat me to that, laughing out loud once more.

In that annoying, _condescending_ voice of his.

“Oh, hahaha, I _heavily_ doubt that, Your Majesty,” he said, pushing his empty plate away from him. “I have no plans to ascend to the Heavens any day soon! I told your royal husband yesterday, I told your beautiful daughter many times and I’ll tell you now as well – I’m not one who can be redeemed. It’s simply not going to happen.”

He put Charlotte’s hand in his once again and pressed a reassuring smooch on the back of it. My child smiled weakly at him for that – but his comment (and probably also his filthy lips dragging over my cute daughter’s fair skin) somehow managed to actually make me upset.

“Why not?” I asked, my tone more demanding than before. “I mean, hell, yeah, I know there’s still a lot you’ll need to do before you can up and leave this place, but – why are you so _sure_ you’re not going to get redeemed?”

Lilith shot me a questioning glance, but I pretended I didn’t see it. 

“Oh there are many, _many_ arguments why I can’t be bettered, Sire! But two of them are probably the most important reasons.” 

The hand-slobberer let go of Charlotte and grinned at me – like he was _taunting_ me.

“For starters, I don’t regret my life, or the choices I made. I don’t feel particular _bad_ for the lives I took, either. Their deaths _amused_ me, after all – why would I feel any regrets about _that?_ That just doesn’t make any sense. So if I could turn back the hands of time – I would repeat everything I did. Well maybe I’d make sure to get out of the woods before that old huntsman would have been able to shoot me down like a wounded deer – but other than that? I’d do everything over again. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“That’s a fair point,” Lilith admitted. “In order to go to Heaven, you would need to repent. Show that you regret your misdeeds.”

Charlotte was surprised. “A _hunter_ shot you, Al? I didn’t know.”

“Well I never told you.” He paused and blinked with his horror-eyes. “Oh my. You’re my lover and I didn’t even tell you how I died? That won’t do! No worries, Charlie dear, I’ll tell you the complete story later.”

Charlotte blushed excitedly – but I huffed in dismay. 

“Alright – _fine._ Having no regrets about your murders isn’t exactly handy if you want to go to Heaven. But– ”

“And there’s your _second_ reason!” Alastor jovially cut me off. “I don’t _want_ to go to this so-called Paradise you Magnes keep gushing about. Not only because that would mean I’d have to leave Charlie _here,_ in this horrible pit of doom and despair they call Hell, but also because, in all fairness, Heaven sounds like a rather _dull_ place.”

Lilith and Charlotte both looked appalled. They eyed me anxiously. 

“What,” I only said.

“Why – didn’t you heard me, Your Highness?” Alastor put one of his legs over the other one. “Heaven is _boring._ A perfect place, a wholesome paradise, a safe haven for each and every single soul? A happily ever after? My goodness – why would I, a being that longs for _chaos,_ for _entertainment,_ for constant _amusement,_ look for something as unimaginative as _Heaven?_ Good lord, I might as well simply toss myself into the Void right away and be over and done with it! Oh ho, no no no, you can keep your oh-so-perfect Heaven! I don’t need nor want _any_ of it, thank you very much!” 

“So you’re saying,” I quietly seethed, “that someone like you, who actually _does_ have a chance of getting into Paradise, would rather turn down the opportunity to get eternal happiness and stay right _here,_ with _all_ of these miserable souls and sinners, with _all_ of these up-to-no-good, rotten demons, far, _far_ away from your well-behaved loved ones in Heaven, who would’ve done _anything_ in the world to see you there with them as well?”

Lilith’s facial expression softened. “Luci…”

But Alastor chortled sarcastically. 

“ _Loved ones_? Sire, my dear mother’s the only loved one I have in Heaven! She’s happy there, and she’s better off without me _and_ without knowing what her precious boy did in his spare time back in the old days, for _sure!”_ He grinned. “Also, my Lord, I would like it if you didn’t compare what _you_ are missing to what _I_ should be missing. Projecting your emotions onto others like that – now that’s just _rude.”_

My hands were clutched fists now, just like the last time we had spoken, and I felt my nails digging into the skin of my flesh. Nevertheless, I successfully suppressed the need to violently throw over the table – partly because Lilith had put a hand on my leg and caressed it comfortingly, partly because Charlotte’s eyes _begged_ me to please stay calm.

Alastor noticed. 

“Now – in spite of what you might think, I’m _not_ trying to rile you up, Sire. I’m only telling you that I’m no fallen angel – why, I’m nothing that even vaguely _resembles_ an angel.” 

He stood up from his chair, fixed his clothes and walked over to where Charlotte sat.  
  
“I’m just a simple sinner, in love with a being that _should_ have been an angel.” 

She looked kind of puzzled when the smooth-talking asshole pulled her from her seat and _arrogantly_ stole a kiss from her.

 _Right_ in front of me.

When he had already pushed me to my _fucking limits._

“A-Al,” my daughter stammered, both heavily flustered by his words as she was _extremely_ aware of the dark, threatening clouds packing themselves together above my head. “I-I think that’s enough – I – um – w-we should give my parents a tour of the hotel, d-don’t you agree? Right?” 

“But of course!” Alastor gave Charlotte a little push towards her mother and me. “You go do just that, my love, I’ll stay here and clean up the table – and the air, haha! Maybe open up some windows or something. I think that’s best for everybody! Is that okay with you?” 

Charlotte hastily confirmed that she indeed was _very_ okay with that, yes yes, very okay, and wasted no time pulling her stumped mother and brooding father out of their chairs and out of the room. 

The last thing I saw before I was evacuated from the dining room was Alastor’s menacing, defiant grin.

Right then and there, I made up my mind.

**There was no way I was ever going to accept that toxic puppet master as Charlotte’s partner.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Burroughs, the writer of 'Naked Lunch', this work's title "means exactly what the words say: naked lunch, a frozen moment when everyone sees what is on the end of every fork." It isn't really a single story - it's a collection of multiple, non-linear events. The narrative constantly jumps around and there's no actual plot.  
> You get to know a certain character called William, who's being chased by the police, and who somehow ends up in Mexico (it apparenty is a very nice place for fictional characters to flee to?), where he meets more people. Then stuff happens. Then some doctor turns out to be the bad guy and a guy named Hassan organizes an orgy. But then AJ crashes the party and everybody gets pissed off at him. Who's AJ, you ask? No idea. But he's there and everybody kind of hates him, until he himself throws an orgy party. William then kills two policemen who almost catch him and then the story gets weirder and weirder, until it just… stops. Just like that. The end.  
> This extremely bizarre, postmodern book kicked up quite some dust back in the 1950s-1960s, because - well did you read what I told you about it? It was one funky book!  
> However, funky or not, it only got (temporarily) banned in some cities/states in the US because of its use of obscene language.


	42. A Clockwork Orange (Anthony Burgess)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor and Vaggie have a shockingly normal conversation. Lucifer crosses a line. Later on, so does Alastor.

Oh my.

Maybe I had gone a bit too far with dear old Lucifer there.

It had been quite entertaining to tease and play around with him up to a certain degree – especially now that I _could,_ since I had Charlie’s protective aura around me – but I shouldn’t forget I was walking on thin ice here. It didn’t matter Lucifer came off as a bumbling, clumsy male version of his daughter (honestly, now that I was with Charlie, it shocked me to see how _similar_ the two of them were, they even had the same cute _cheeks,_ for goodness sake), he was still the King and Ruler of Hell.

There was a reason why I had never challenged Lucifer before – and at one point had even unsuccessfully attempted to befriend him: the man was powerful enough to destroy the entirety of Hell with nothing more but a word. I had once witnessed him snapping during a spat between him and somebody who had ridiculed Lilith, and, well…

Let’s just say that some poor lost souls are still trying to find bits and parts of the thirty sinners that were annihilated that day. 

No matter how powerful I was, I knew I was still no match for Lucifer – and even if I was able to miraculously finish off the King, there would still be the _Queen_ to deal with. 

And I feared _her_ grievous wrath would burn down the universe in and on itself.

So, no – conquering all of Hell by sheer bloodshed had never been a goal of me. As long as I could amuse myself in this forsaken world, all would be just fine and dandy with me… and now that I had Charlie as my lovely partner, I didn’t _need_ to have such huge ambitions anymore.

As long as I could have _her_ – as long as I could have Charlie here with me and as long as this beautiful, too-good-for-this-world creature was able to make my inexperienced ticker jump up in startled and joyful surprise, to fill my head, heart and body right up, with _every little thing_ that was _her,_ I didn’t need anything else.

“You still went too far though,” Vaggie berated me, as she took the dirty dishes from me and started stacking them up on the counter, right next to the sink. It was already filled with clean, foamy dishwater and the moth demon was about to dump some plates into it. 

I agreed with her, in all honesty. However, I wanted to have a bit more fun with her.

So I scoffed. “Oh? I think I could have gone a bit further.”

Vaggie shook her black bob, clearly very annoyed with me. She turned her back towards me and put her gray arms into the white, soapy water. 

“No you _couldn’t_ – look, I was out of the kitchen when it happened – I _saw_ what Lucifer looked like when Charlie got him out of the dining room, and you should be fucking _grateful_ you’re still _breathing!_ You pissed him off, Alastor – you pissed him off _good!_ And what for? What good does it do to provoke Hell’s most powerful being? Were you just being _mean?_ Using your safe status as Charlie’s boyfriend to do nothing more but agitate him?”

I watched her rub the dirt and smudges of one of the plates, pondering about what to tell her.

“Probably, yes.”

“Well you _shouldn’t!”_ Vaggie threw me an angry glance over her shoulder. “You should try to keep in mind that you’re messing with Charlie’s father here! No matter how… awkward their bond has become over the years, he’s still her dad and she loves and respects him. Don’t fucking _test_ her like that!”

Despite everything, that put me in my place. I would never forgive anybody trying to make a fool out of my mother, no matter what – and yet, here I was, ridiculing Charlie’s father and expecting to get away with it, too.

“You make a valid point,” I therefore admitted, before standing next to her and taking a clean towel out of a cabinet. “I did mean to stir things up, but I didn’t mean to take it _that_ far. I’ll make sure to apologize to both Charlie and her parents, later.”

I began to dry off a washed plate Vaggie had put down on the counter – but her baffled face staring at me almost made me drop it on the ground.

“What is it?”

“You _did_ change.” Vaggie’s eye got that unusual, half-sad, half-concerned gaze again. “You’re still a royal pain in the ass, but you – _did_ – change. You’ve gotten _nicer.”_

“Oh?” I chuckled, not convinced in the slightest. “In what way, pray tell?”

“You acted like a haughty ass about it just now, but I actually believe you stopped bugging Lucifer the second you felt you went too far. You felt _bad_ about it. You even started cleaning up the dining room. Also, you’re helping me out _now,_ without me or Charlie having asked that of you. You just admitted that I was _right_ about something – and to put it even stronger, you’re planning to genuinely _apologize_ to both Charlie and her mom and dad.” Vaggie gave me another plate – and another fixed look. “When was the last time you apologized to somebody and _meant_ it, Alastor?”

I wanted to answer her, but found myself unable to do so. After all, I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted to correct my own errors – not because it could benefit me one way or another, but because I truly _wanted_ other living beings to feel better.

“Dammit, Alastor,” I heard Vaggie mutter – and her hands in the water suddenly got a lot rougher with the pieces of tableware that were still resting inside the foam. “I’m glad you’re reflecting on yourself, but… goddammit. Instead of being a shithead to Charlie’s parents and feeling bad about it later, why don’t you just… _lay low_ and stop giving yourself opportunities to redeem yourself even further? You’ll only end up hurting Charlie in the end.”

Now _this_ again. I took a deep breath.

“So you’re basically saying that no matter what I do – apologizing to the Magnes or not apologizing to the Magnes – I end up hurting Charlie. Is that so? My _word,_ Vaggie, I can’t do _anything_ right in your book, now can I?”

Her pupils widened and a particular nice mug fell apart on the floor.

“You…”

 _“What,_ Vaggie – what is it _now?”_

“Your smile is gone.” Vaggie pointed a shaky finger to my face. “You’re actually _frowning.”_

“I – what?” I brought a hand up to my face. It felt strange.

“Oh my,” I mumbled.

Forget apologizing – when was the last time I dropped my smile?

“Okay – you’re _done_ helping me out,” Vaggie decided, and quickly snatched the towel out of my hands, snapping me out of it. “Go – I don’t know – go pester some sinners or something. Oh, I know – Angel Dust is probably spreading gossips about you again somewhere, why don’t you look him up and tentacle-smack him?”

“Oh no no, it was thanks to Angel that I took my and Charlie’s relationship to the next level,” I said, shaking my head. “He can gossip about me all he wants. Besides, something tells me he would only _like_ a firm tentacle-smacking.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Vaggie groaned as I both shuddered and snickered at my own remark. 

She then scratched her head and pointedly took me to a lone corner of the kitchen.

“Okay – in that case – just stand over _here_ and do _nothing!_ Just… wait until Charlie calls you or whatever!”

“Aren’t you overreacting, my dear?” I watched her stomp back to the sink. “I’m fairly sure nothing… _else_ will happen if I help you out now. Besides, you’re _awful_ at washing the dishes. And you still need to pick up the pieces of that mug. Oh, that poor mug. Such a nice mug that was.”

Vaggie shot me a dark look and went to take the dustpan and brush from a hidden cabinet. “Nice try, asshole, but I’m not taking any chances – and I’m not pushing _anything_ further. Now _shut up_.”

Touching my now steadfast smile once more, I simply did as she told me.  
  


**AaA  
  
**

Some time passed, and I was about to ask Vaggie just how long she was planning to make me stand in the corner of the kitchen and watch her clean, put away the dishes and get rid of every edible thing that had been part of the lunch (which honestly was kind of entertaining since she really hated cleaning up and groaned and growled the entire time), when I heard a loud thrashing – as if somebody was falling off the stairs. 

Since Vaggie didn’t say anything and didn’t try to stop me, I got out of my corner and into the hallway just outside the kitchen, exactly on time to see Charlie stamping off the final steps of the stairs. She looked angry. Her mother was right behind her, a worrisome look decorating her demonic face, and her father followed suit, almost crashing down in his haste to try and catch up with his infuriated daughter.

“Charlie?” I asked – but Charlie raised a stern hand, shushing me as she walked straight past me, to the hotel’s front door.

She grabbed the doorknob, blew some of her hair out of her face and opened the big door with a huff. After that, she planted her hands in her sides and glared at her father.

“Leave. _Now!”_

“Charlie…” Lilith sighed, resting her face in her hands.

“I was only telling you what you already know!” Lucifer called out, his rather shrill voice echoing through the empty halls of the hotel. As I had expected, it was a smart move to plan their visit on a Sunday – most sinners were out today.

“That’s right!” Charlie yelled back at him. “And you’re only telling me things that make me doubt myself – as you usually do! It’s something you _always_ do!”

“Honey – my cute cheesecake—”

 _“Don’t_ call me _cheesecake!_ I was _right_ about the possibility sinners have to better themselves! You _saw_ so for yourself! You even _told me_ during the tour around the house – ‘oh Charlotte I’m so proud of you blah blah blah’ – and yet, you _still_ say my hotel is a waste of my time!”

“I’m – I’m not saying your _hotel_ is – is a waste of time – I’m only saying some of – of your _residents_ are!” Lucifer stopped running and bent over, panting and leaning on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Like _this_ douchebag!”

His – sudden! – index finger nearly stabbed me in the demonic eye and I wisely stepped back a bit.

“Yeah? Well ironically enough, _dad,_ as you can see, he’s the most reformed of _all,_ so what the hell is your _problem!”_

Charlie stomped away from the door to stand in front of me and _slap_ her father’s finger out of my face. 

“And don’t _point_ at him like that!”

“I can point at him as much as I want!” Lucifer nagged – and proceeded to do just that, repeatedly sticking out and pulling back his forefinger at me, as Charlie furiously tried to swat it.

It was a slightly uncomfortable sight to behold. 

Eventually, Lilith and I exchanged – quite exasperated – looks, found some common ground and almost at exactly the same time took hold of both Charlie and Lucifer from behind, pulling the father and daughter away from each other. 

“I _forbid_ you from dating that – that Radio Demon-deformity!” Lucifer spat, futilely struggling against his wife’s strong arms. “I’ll never accept that sly, up-to-no-good asshole! You hear me, Charlotte? I’ll _never_ accept him!”

“I _hate_ you!” Charlie blurted out as her long nails clawed into my arms. She tossed and turned and fought hard against my grip, and while I did wince, I stubbornly held onto her and hugged her tightly against me.

“Calm down, Charlie – please, my love, this is nothing like you.”

Then I looked up at Lucifer.

Just as I expected, the fallen angel’s thin pupils got wide in bewilderment when he saw my face, as if he couldn’t believe what the hell was happening anymore. Was it pure _rage_ I saw flashing in those yellow orbs of his, was it _hate,_ was it _confusion?_ Who would be able to tell – I was the only one who could see this expression of his, since Charlie was too busy throwing a fit to see. 

Well whatever it was – it was enough to temporary stun the King.

And as soon as Lucifer calmed down, so did Charlie, who kind of slumped into my arms. I could tell she was still mad, however – her smaller body was trembling heavily. 

“We should probably go now,” Lilith matter-of-factly said, still holding a firm grip on her husband. “I’m sorry things turned out like this.”

“I’m also to blame,” I said. “I probably set the tone from the start. I do apologize for that.” 

She narrowed her big, multicolored eyes at me and I involuntarily braced myself – but she didn’t say anything and simply nodded, pulling up her slouching fallen angel-man up a bit, as he, too, was slipping through her hands.

She focused her eyes on her daughter. “Charlie?”

Charlie replied with a snivel.

“Do call me tonight. Okay, my sweet?” There was an almost desperate edge on her neutral, disinterested voice. “You _promise_ me you will, little apple beignet?”

Charlie stood a bit upright. I looked down and noticed the grim, harsh, painful scratches the blonde princess had left onto my skin. Her nails no longer scraped my arms, but she did grip them, ever so forcefully, as if she wouldn’t be able to stand on her feet otherwise.

“Okay mom,” Charlie hoarsely said. 

“I promise to do so as well,” her exhausted father growled – and it was directed at me. “I’ll fucking call you up tonight as well, _you got that_? I got my eyes on you from now on – or at least my _ears!”_

It was tempting to simply grin at Lucifer again, just to see how the hot-headed ruler of Hell would react to _that,_ but this obligatory parental visit had dragged on far too long to my liking. It was past five already. Just like Charlie, I wanted them to _leave_ now. 

So I merely nodded, without saying a word. 

After a few more hastily spoken words of goodbye, most of them spoken by Lilith, the King and Queen of Hell departed for their own home.

  
**AaA**

  
It took some time before Charlie started to cry over the failed visit of her parents. 

As soon as the door had closed after her parents’ exiting figures, Charlie had taken my wrist and pulled me after her as she ascended the stairs. I didn’t question it nor did I try to ask her if everything was alright – I just let her take me to wherever she wanted me to go to with her. We stumbled upon a few sinners along the way – the few that had stayed in the hotel and inside their rooms, and only now dared to leave the safety of their own chambers – but Charlie paid them no attention and kept on climbing stairs.

I found out where she was trying to lead us to disappointingly late, but at least I figured it out before she had reached our destination – and I was quick to pick her up and carry her to the library during the last few minutes we were away from our former personal hideout. Charlie didn’t even try to stop me from carrying her, she actually seemed to appreciate it.

In the library, we sat down on the chaise longue – and when asked to do so, I made Charlie’s first-aid kit appear from thin air.

Only then, after Charlie had applied the prickly disinfectant to the bloody stripes on my arms and carefully let her cloths and fingers linger over them, tears fell from her face. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, “I – I had hoped dad would… _like_ you. Since you’ve met before and – went hunting and what-not. But he doesn’t. He – he doesn’t like you at _all.”_

I watched her devastated face and unsteady hands and felt a pang in my chest.

“My dear, you _do_ realize that’s partly thanks to my own efforts, do you not? I pushed him quite far. I…” I hesitated, but gently lifted her face anyway. “I used you to rile him up.”

Her dark eyes were shimmering in the lights of the room and she let out a soft laugh. “You think I didn’t _know_ that? Al, you made a show out of it! The big ‘How-Far-Can-I-Go-Before-Lucifer-Snaps’ –show! I can’t _believe_ the things you told to his face!”

I smiled weakly. “I am sorry for that.”

“I know – and that’s _good,_ Al.” Charlie sniffled and rubbed her eyes. “However, _I_ was at fault as well. I should have stopped you from pestering dad. But I – I kind of _liked_ it, seeing him getting all worked up because you didn’t agree with him and used me to take advantage of the situation. I – kind of _enjoyed_ his helplessness. And I liked what you said about me. I – I like it when you compare me to an angel.”

I grazed her face with the back of my hand – even though I knew fully well I didn’t have any claws to possibly hurt her. “You are and always have been an angel, my love.”

She beamed happily at that, looking up at me with somewhat red, but once again sparkling eyes. 

“T-thanks, Al.”

“Anytime, Charlie.” I brushed some hair out of her warm face and pecked her right in-between her eyes. 

“Oh, that reminds me: kissing me right after you dissed dad’s former home was kind of a dick move, Al.” Charlie giggled nevertheless, snuggling closer to me and pressing her forehead against mine. “He looked ready to behead you on the spot.”

“I should definitely shove my tongue into your mouth next time then,” I said – and Charlie let out a bubbly laugh.

“No, don’t you _dare!”_

I watched as she laughed, looking like the gorgeous princess she was, and quietly pressed a few kisses to her face. I had wanted to kiss her again for quite some time. I always felt like too much time passed before we could connect lips again and I longed for her caresses more than I could put down in words. It wasn’t before long the laughter stopped and Charlie, feeling how I questioningly pulled her against me, eagerly began to answer me. She placed her soft lips on mine and gripped the back of my vest firmly as we got lost in each other’s taste and touch.

“Have sex with me tonight,” Charlie breathed out softly, when she, at a certain point, pushed me down on the couch and nuzzled my face. 

Your father will contact me tonight, I wanted to remind her – but the words flew right from my mind when I saw Charlie’s hot and bothered expression, her slightly opened, bruised lips and her hopeful eyes.

“Naturally,” I heard myself agreeing right away – and then I fell into this wonderful state of complete bliss once again, as Charlie’s sweet hands collected my face and kissed me as passionately as she could.   
  


**AaA**   
  


Charlie gnawed on her lower lip and stifled a moan as I bit the pretty white skin of her sweaty neck, telling her to keep on bouncing up and down in my lap like that – just like that – yes, just like _that._

I hadn’t dared to leave any marks on her when I still had my sharper, demonic teeth, but now that _those_ were gone, it felt great to bite, lick and cherish the soft sensation of Charlie’s lips, face, throat, neck and rest of her torso to my heart’s content. I felt jolts shooting through her quivering body as I pressed her against me even more, whispering in her ear just how great she felt, how wet she was and much deeper I wished to be inside of her.

Charlie _loved_ these affectionate, yet fairly dirty encouragements, I had found out, and she panted heavily, rolling her head on my shoulder while her arms embraced me tightly.   
Also, that dress looked lovely on her right now, as she was still wearing it, her breasts having already spilled out of the bodice, her shoulders naked and riddled with bite and kiss marks. The rest of the dress was crumpled up around her bucking limbs, with tears in it here and there, and it was a wonderful sight to behold – simply _wonderful._

When we had gone to bed, I had told Charlie I wanted her to wear the dress during our lovemaking. 

Although Charlie firstly had blushed at the very idea, she had easily locked the door of her bedroom and slipped out of her panties, tossing it aside like it was nothing, before kindly informing me about the fact she was going to ride me.

And she did just that.

As Charlie’s enticing moans grew louder, and as she began to stammer _yes_ over and over again, clinging to me as low groans turned into high yelps, I could feel somebody was trying to contact me. I could even swear I heard a familiar male’s voice utter a confused, canned _“What’s going on?”_.

Feeling particular sadistic and spiteful, I took hold of Charlie’s hips and slammed myself into her so _hard_ and so _ruthless_ she cried out loud enough for the other rooms to hear.

Unfortunately, I forgot all about her father soon afterwards, as I could never _ever_ grow tired of Charlie’s ecstatic screams, and because I seemed to be extremely close to climaxing as well.

But I suppose he got the message. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dad and some of my uncles went to see the film adaption of 'A Clockwork Orange', when Kubrick's version was being shown in the cinema's, around 1971. According to them, people started leaving the building after only fifteen minutes, since the movie was too cruel, too gruesome and too hardcore for them (my father and one other uncles stayed though, since they are apparently badasses).  
> And with good reason. The story of both the film and the book is about Alex, a teen rebel that lives in a dystopian world that's being consumed by hate and violence. At night, he and his gang of drugged and bored 'droogs' go out and cause havoc all night long: they beat people up, rape them, assault them and later on, when Alex has a falling out with his gang, he learns one woman he had knocked out before died of her injuries. Alex is arrested and sentenced to 14 years of prison... and in jail, he agrees to undergo a new form of behavior modification: the so-called Ludovico Technique. It's an avertion therapy, to try and make Alex feel extreme disgust when confronted with violence. And it works! However, he no longer enjoyes his favorite music (as they have used Beethoven to condition him) and he eventually even tries to off himself, since there's no joy in his life left. He lives, though - but what kind of life?  
> It's a rough, unforgiving story - a story that demands you to think about morals and rules. It was removed out of a couple of high schools (because of its 'objectionable' language) and one bookseller was even arrested in 1973 for selling the novel. Things got heated up so badly, the poor man even had to move to another city!


	43. An American Tragedy (Theodore Dreiser)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stress is starting to get to Charlie, so Alastor helps her unwind. Alastor tells Charlie about his past and his parents.

I looked on in awe as Al’s final demonic deformity changed – his right eye. 

The dark, crimson color of his sclera turned to white, the somewhat lighter red of his iris light brown. _Caramel,_ I told myself. I had once called it the color of caramel. That was the color of Alastor’s eyes. It was a color that was surprisingly and deceivingly sweet and… and _kind._

It was weird to now have both of his humanized eyes staring at me in wonder. Just when I had finally gotten used to Al’s left eye being, well, _normal,_ his other eye had gone and done the same. Now, there was nothing remotely demonic or otherworldly about Alastor’s body anymore. No matter how you looked at him as he was right now, he was – a _man._ A brown-haired, bespectacled, simple human man, with no powers or inhumane strengths or magic quirks left in his frail body. Even the buzzing and white noises had stopped at one point, just like the constant smiling.

Al studied his reflection in the mirror I held up for him. I watched his reaction closely, hoping to see a bit of the happiness I had been wishing so hard for him to feel, almost as if he had accepted his unavoidable fate… 

…but to my dismay, Alastor looked frustrated. He _glared_ at his image in the mirror, like he wanted to _destroy_ it, right on the spot.  
  
“But,” he said, as I put down the mirror, “this is all wrong. This shouldn’t have happened. I was supposed to stay with you forever – not leave you _first.”_

I tried to ignore the obvious trembling in his ordinary, humane voice and struggled to keep my own smile intact. I opened my mouth and wanted to tell him that it was okay, that it was all right, that this was _supposed_ to happen, that he never was meant to stay behind in Hell with me, no matter how much he had fought to keep himself from changing too much.

But there was only a cracking, inaudible croak coming from my lips and I hastily slapped my hands on my mouth. 

“Charlie,” he pleaded – and then the doorbell rang. 

Alastor’s head snapped around to where the sound came from fast enough for it to be painful, while I managed a shaky laugh. 

“Well, th-there they are, Al! They’re here for you!”

“Who are?” Al asked.

Instead of answering him, I answered the door. Several strange, foreign-looking, winged beings, with spears of light and cold, smiling masks on their faces, came inside the hallway of the hotel. There was a bright halo floating above their heads, I noticed as they got in, and they didn’t speak a single word or pay me any attention – their focus was on Alastor and Alastor alone. 

Who began to back away.

“No,” he muttered.

“Al?” I tried. “Come on – don’t be scared! This – this is _good!_ It’s a _good_ thing that’s happening right now! Please – let go of that coat rack – _let go of that coat rack Al_ – you can’t take that with you to Heaven!”

Alastor allowed me to take the coat rack – but he kept it in his hands as well as I attempted to pull it away from him, making me look up at him. Even though his height had decreased as well, he still was a little bit bigger than me.

“And _you?”_ he said. “What about you, Charlie? If I latch myself onto you when those _things_ start dragging me away – will I be able to take you with me?”

I swallowed. It was difficult to maintain a happy face when his own was wiped clean of every single smile or grin he ever shot towards and/or shared with me.

“D-don’t be silly, Al. I-I’m forbidden to ascend to Heaven. They’d just… pry me from your grasp and toss me down, back into the pits of Hell, h-haha. It’s my destiny to stay down here and help those in need of… redeeming themselves. I can’t leave.”

“Then neither can I,” Alastor said.

This needed to stop. I straightened my face and shook my head decisively at him. 

_“No,_ Al. Don’t you get it? I _want_ you to go.”

His face looked devastated, like I had told him I hated him and everything that had made him into the person he was, and I took a deep breath. Then I reached out and snatched the rack away from him. While Alastor still tried to register what had happened with the piece of wood, I grabbed his hand, forcefully spun him around and gave a harsh _shove_ to his back, pushing him towards the Angels, who were patiently waiting right behind us.

They weren’t in a hurry. They knew they’d get what they had come for. They would wait.

Al crashed into them, and as the heavenly creatures instantly curled their delicate, yet strangely misshapen hands around his arms and shoulders, he seemed to freeze up, like he was having another panic attack. 

“Charlie – Charlie, _please!_ Don’t let them take me away – I don’t _want_ to be taken away!”

“It is your time,” I said.

That wasn’t the answer he was hoping for. Alastor’s panic-stricken, vulnerable face suddenly got grim and bitter. A menacing, hateful smirk started to spread itself on his human features, giving him an almost insane look. He no longer fought against the Angels taking hold of him – he just stared at me. Wearing that crazy, outstretched grin of his. 

“So that’s was all I was to you in the end, **wasn’t** **I**.’

“What?” I asked, confused. 

“I never was your co-worker – nor your _lover._ That’s the bottom line. We were never _equals._ To you, I was simply a tenant you needed to help. Just another sinner you needed to set straight. A lost _lamb._ Well you did a _marvelously_ fine job herding me, princess Charlotte! If I could, I’d _applaud_ you!”

“W-what are you talking about?” I found myself approaching him and the Angels, but now that Alastor had given in to them, they made their way to the front door again. Al laughed and let them.

“Oh yes, _do_ take me to that oh-so grand Paradise of yours! **I’ll tear it so shreds**. I’ll tear **all of it** apart. I won’t spare anybody – my goodness, this is going to be **so** entertaining! I can’t _wait_ to pluck Heaven of all its feathery beings!” 

He gave me a maniacal smirk over his shoulder while the Angels took off and became airborne. 

_“Thanks,_ my dear – looks like your betrayal was all I needed to get back to my senses again! Here – why don’t you just – just take _this_ from me. It has been a thorn in my flesh ever since meeting _you_ – it _certainly_ won’t be of any use for me _now!”_

With a grunt, Al yanked a spear from one of the Angels – who didn’t seem to care – and he stabbed himself in the chest. Over and over again. Just like that. He didn’t even hesitate. Looking at it was torture in and on itself and I choked up in disgusted horror as I heard the sickening sound of breaking bones, while a bloody, dark rain dripped down on the ground below him. A chilling cackle ripped through the air – and I couldn’t help but run after them, unable to look away from the upsetting sight in the twilight sky 

“ _Stop that_!” I screamed as I tried to keep up with them. “Al – no! Stop – _what are you doing_!”

They flew higher now, but I could still make out Alastor’s bleeding body in between the disinterested Angels. He held something up – then flung it towards me, as viciously as he could.

I needed to catch it – whatever it was that Al had thrown down at me like it was a piece of worthless junk I needed – I wanted – I _had_ to catch it.

And I did catch it.

It plunged into my arms with a nauseating _splat._ It – it was a black, foul-smelling, rapidly cooling chunk of flesh. I shrieked and wanted to drop it, but changed my mind at the last second. It almost physically hurt me, but I took a good look at it – before tearing up and raising my head up to the sky above me. 

“You _were_ my co-worker – you _were_ my equal! You – you _were_ my lover – Al, please, I beg you – believe me, you were! You _are!_ I love you! I love you _so much_! That’s why… that’s why…!”

But it was no use. Alastor and the Angels were too high up now – I couldn’t see them anymore, couldn’t reach him anymore. Maybe he hadn’t even heard me. No – not ‘maybe’. He hadn’t heard me. He hadn’t heard me at all.

I stood still and felt my knees giving out as I fell on the muddy path underneath me. I trembled over my entire body as I pressed Al’s barely beating, wounded heart against my own and finally let my tears run free.

I wasn’t just silently allowing wet droplets of salty water to trickle down my face, as I usually attempted to do when I felt it all was too much for me – no, this time, I cried my eyes out, until there was no more water left inside of me, and when the heart slowly ceased moving in my smudged hold, I gasped for air and buckled over.   
  


**CcC  
  
**

I thought I was busy wasting away in that lonely dirt path. I was almost _sure_ of it, even – but then, out of nowhere, a hand clumsily – and just a tad too adamantly to my liking – _smacked_ me on the cheek. 

“Charlie? Charlie – wake up, my love.”

I moaned out a strained cry of pain and opened my eyes.

My heart fluttered in relief and pure, utter _delight_ as I stared right at Alastor, lying on his side, facing me. The room was still dark, as it probably was just after midnight, but I was able to recognize the lines of his body. My eyes got watery again as Alastor, who apparently understood he had slapped me too hard, quickly took my face in his hands and mumbled a half-amused, half-panicked apology.

“Oh lord – I’m sorry, my dear – did that hurt you? Oh my – I didn’t know your face was that sensitive! Well no, that’s a lie – I _do_ know your face is sensitive, as I like to squish its unbearable cuteness to my heart’s content and you always make such adorable sounds when I do so, but still – oh no – please don’t cry, Charlie, I only wanted to wake you up.”

I sniffled wordlessly. He was now rubbing gentle circles over my assaulted cheek. His right eye was still red and evil. 

He smiled, noticing I calmed down. “Now… you were having a nightmare, weren’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” I hiccupped. “Yeah – it was – it was awful. It was just so _awful,_ Al…”

Al hummed and carefully wiped the last few tears from my eyes. “Ah, well. It was just a dream, Charlie. Dreams can’t hurt you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I muttered underneath my breath as I remembered my nightmare.

“Hmm?” 

“N-nothing.” I gulped and held out my arms towards him. “H-hold me, Al. Please – please just… hold me for a while.”

He chuckled at that, but nevertheless wrapped his arms around my upper body and pulled me against him. His familiar smell – autumn, forests, wet leaves, a rainy Sunday morning – overwhelmed and comforted me and I breathed out a shuddering gasp as I attached myself onto him. But _really_ attached myself onto him. My arms were flung around his neck and I hooked my legs around his waist as well, solidly pressing him against me, barely allowing him to move an inch.

Who knows how much longer before I wouldn’t be able to feel the sensation of the weird, pointy, awkward shapes of his body against mine anymore? 

Who knows how much longer before I could no longer physically experience Al answering my affectionate needs – Al instantly giving in to them – Al wholeheartedly appreciating every single moment of them?

Who knows how much longer before I’d lose him?

“Charlie,” I heard him say, in a kind of confused, slightly strangled-sounding manner, “is everything alright, my love?”

“Yeah,” I said, because it was true – _now_ everything was alright – and I buried my nose into his neck, nudging it against his skin, kissing it, even nipping at it. He made a surprised noise at that, but didn’t tell me to stop. He simply patted my head, stroke over my damp back and thought about the situation. 

I knew, because there were still soft radio sounds when he did that. But… they grew softer every day. I was lucky to be able to hear them _now,_ really.

When I felt this wasn’t enough for me, I started placing sloppy kisses to Al’s throat and grinded my crotch against his greedily. He responded in a manner I couldn’t really comprehend – and at that, I abruptly stopped, suddenly remembering it was _Al_ I was trying to get horny here.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” I stammered, as Al calmly freed himself from my sweaty grasp and pushed me down on the mattress, “I – you – I kind of got lost in thought there…”

“Lost in _thought,_ you say?” Alastor snickered. “My. You certainly have some unusual euphemisms for getting sexually aroused, my dear.”

“Uhm… well… y-yeah…”

“Alright then.”

I watched him backing off, away from me, and I shivered when I felt the chilly air hit my party exposed body. There was a sound of a drawer opening and closing – and I gulped heavily.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Oh please, Charlie. You _know_ what’s in that drawer.”

I did know indeed. 

So he remembered? I mean – yeah – we had done it earlier this week, like on the rather… disastrous day my parents had visited the hotel, but I didn’t know he’d actually paid attention when I had hastily grabbed a condom out of that nightstand and showed him how to put it on. 

“You – you know you don’t have to, you know,” I half-heartedly tried to tell him, as he came back, partially naked, and made me yelp by decisively pulling up my nightgown, just like that. I probably wasn’t really convincing him though, since my voice was thick and raspy with desire and need.

“I – I mean… I – I know I… might ask too much of you, since I… like sex a _lot,_ and I—” 

“Shut up and spread your legs, sweetheart.”

I opened up my legs so fast I nearly kicked him in the face.

“There you go.” He gave a rewarding pat or two to my leg as he made himself comfortable between my thighs. I kept on swallowing gulps of saliva as I felt him easily entering me – so very _easily,_ it startled me a bit: I hadn’t even noticed he had actually gotten hard. I wrapped my arms around his neck again and tried to relax.

“I understand your concern – after all, you’re always the one to initiate sexual intercourse,” he carried on the conversation, as if he _wasn’t_ balls deep inside of me, and gently wiped locks of unruly hair out of my face, “but Charlie – my lovely princess – when do you learn that pleasing _you_ pleases _me_ just as much? It’s true, I don’t think sex is all that exciting – I actually find it rather tiresome, even. But _you_ enjoy it – and my goodness, Charlie, do I _love_ doing the things you enjoy. The sounds and expressions you make, only for _me_ to see, hear and cherish. The sheer _pleasure_ it gives you. It’s so inexplicably _rewarding_ for me.”

“Y-yeah?” I panted.

“It is.” He took my hands from his neck and clasped them tightly with his own, pressing them above my head. “And if making love to you helps easing your troubled mind, then who am I to refuse doing just that, hmm? I want you to feel good, my love. To feel safe. As my lover _should.”_

I felt tears welling up again and I hold on to his hands as if they were going to leave mine forever if I didn’t. 

“A-Al – I – I love you. You – you _know_ that, right?”

He made an affirmative sound. “I love you, too.”

There was more I wanted to ask him and more that I wanted to say.

But then Al started to move, in a slow, torturing, absolutely _delicious_ way, and I found myself being unable to do anything else but moan, writhe and hold on to him.

Maybe, for now, that was more than enough, though.  
  


**CcC**   
  


A while later, as we still laid in bed and came down from a… higher place, Alastor – who had pulled me on top of him, in spite of the gross wetness of our bodies – rubbed my cheeks and grinned widely. 

“By the bye, my love, I meant to tell you this earlier, but you do take much after your father. _Ridiculously_ much, even.”

I pouted. My heart was still hammering against my chest, and I felt his own heart bouncing away as well.

 _“Wow,_ Al. My _dad._ What a nice subject to talk about, right after having sex with me.”

“Why _isn’t_ it! _Glad_ we agree!” Alastor smiled teasingly and squished the huffiness out of my face. “As a matter of fact, I look a lot like my father as well. I thought that was an amusing coincidence.”

I perked up my ears and folded my arms together, on top of his chest. I rested my chin on it and looked at him, intruded. “Your _father?”_

“My father, yes.”

“You never talk about your father.”

“I don’t, no.” He put his hands on my back. _“My._ May I say you feel truly disgusting on a whole unworldly level right now?”

“You just _did,_ you _jerk.”_ I wrinkled my nose at him, but grinned anyway. “Tell me more about your dad. Were you close with him?”

His smile faltered. “He died when I was five years old. I don’t remember much of him.”

“O-oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t be – you can’t miss what you never missed,” Alastor reasoned. “My mother managed to be a father and a mother for me at the same time, so I never thought she alone wasn’t enough. She had quite a hard life, she had. But she almost never showed me how difficult and unfair life could be for her – she was an upbeat woman who loved playing tunes on the radio and teaching me how to sing and dance, whenever she wasn’t working one of her three jobs. She even taught me how to cook a decent meal, so I could welcome her home with something nice and warm after she got back from yet another appointment! I owe her so much!”

I frowned. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

“What, my dear?”

“Avoiding talking about your dad.”

“Oh – _that!”_ He laughed. “Oh no no no, I swear that isn’t so! But like I told you: he was dead and gone before I got the chance to get to know him. The only things I know about my father was that he was some sort of a… construction worker, if I recall correctly? A man with vaguely French and Spanish roots, thanks to his family immigrating to America, a couple of centuries ago.”

My eyes widened. “That _does_ explain your exotic skin color.”

“Well I’m glad you like it!” He paused for a moment. “Back then, mother told me father always made her laugh. He was a jokester and liked playing tricks on people – but never out of any ill intentions. He was a problem-solving, jovial optimist with a lot of friends and charisma. He never wore a frown and my mother actually couldn’t remember him without a big grin on his face. A simpleminded, naive man – but a happy one.”

“Sounds like he was an amazing person,” I smiled.

Al nodded. “I suppose he was.”

“How did he… um…”

“Die? Well, quite _stupidly,_ of course.” Al looked up, to the ceiling. “One day, a few of his fellow workers got into a fight. My father – always the meddlesome peacemaker – wanted to stop them and jumped in-between his arguing mates, who were swinging hammers around, like the fools they were. It only them took one hard, swift, accidental blow to my father’s temple to make him bite the dust for good.”

“O-oh…” 

“He had promised me he’d put a swing on the tree in front of our house for me, as a birthday gift.” 

“But he… died before he could do that?”

“Oh no. He died within an hour after he had done that.”

I was shocked. “He died on your birthday…?” 

Alastor got a strange, wry smile on his face. “After he had installed the swing, he said he’d go buy some ice cream for me as well, since it was my birthday. I was happy – I still loved sweets and ice cream back then. I told him I’d wait for him, on the swing, and then the two of us – mother had an errand to run – could spend some time together. Some rare father-son quality time, since he was working most of the time.”

“Oh Al…”

“I believe he got distracted on his way to the store when he heard through the grapevine his worker friends were fighting. I was still seated on that swing when his fellows brought his lifeless corpse back home. I finally got off of it when my mother’s loud crying let me know she had returned home as well.”

I didn’t know what to say and just hugged him.

“He was a fool.”

“No he wasn’t!”

“He was a damn _fool,_ Charlie, and he is lucky he went to Heaven, because I’d have smacked him silly if I had been able to. His death devastated my mother for months. Only when I, out of desperation, started smiling like my father always did, my mother was finally able to slowly climb out of her depression. My mother was crazy about my father – and I worried about her well-being for years and years. I was always afraid she’d do something to herself if I didn’t try hard enough – I was always walking on eggshells.”

I could feel Al’s body getting rigid and I thought about what I could do or say to make him feel better. 

Nothing came to mind, though. 

I still had my mother and father, who were alive and well here in Hell. What can you say to somebody who has lost his parents when you yourself still have both of yours? Are there even words for that?

“Well,” Al finally said, exhaling, “looking back, I probably could have relaxed a bit more! Mother never exhibited signs of depression again after those first few difficult years, and even when news reached her I had perished in the woods, she still managed to live out her life till she was well within her nineties, or so I've heard.”

“Wha – you _died_ before your mother did?”

“Why yes, I was torn to shreds by a bunch of rabid dogs and put out of my misery by an old, nearsighted hunter.” Alastor nonchalantly said. “My mother was at home, cooking dinner around that time. Good thing she never found out what kind of hobbies I had to keep myself entertained and to… _unwind._ I doubt my kind, Catholic mother would have approved of _that!”_

He laughed, but it sounded strange, like his laughter was forcibly choked out of him. 

I crawled off of Alastor and laid next to him again. His uncanny way of laughing stopped soon enough and I noticed from the corner of my eyes he was now roughly rubbing the palm of his hand over his sole human eye. I touched the bedding, carefully, until I found his other hand, and smiled weakly when he immediately took a firm hold of mine.

“Thanks for sharing, Alastor.”

He didn’t respond.

But during the remainder of the night, he didn’t let go of my hand either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A criminal case that involved the drowning of a young woman and the execution of the man heavily suspected to be involved with her death was what drove Dreiser to write this book - he even gave his main character the same initials as the man in the aforementioned case. Also, the protagonist is a huuuuge jerk. Ugh.  
> Clyde Griffiths is a young, handsome and incredibly stupid man that starts off pretty nice: he does his best to support his poor family and therefore gets multiple weird job, before he ultimately ends up as a bellboy of a prestigious hotel. From there on, Clyde grows less and less likable: he starts wooing multiple women, accidentally kills a little girl, knocks up an innocent farm girl and then tries to dump her when a rich lady takes a liking to him. The farm girl - Roberta - is understandably upset about this and warns him she'll reveal his relationship with her if he marries the other girl instead. Clyde panics, something he does a LOT in the story, and ponders about drowning her in a lake. So he takes her boating, but chickens out - he can't do it. Still, somehow, Roberta ends up in the lake anyway and drowns, since Clyde panics (once more) and hastily swims away from her. It's technically an accident, but they arrest Clyde anyway and ultimately, he gets the chair and dies. Good riddance. really.  
> This book was one of the many unfortunate books that got burned by the Nazis. Why? Because it deals with 'low love affairs'. *shrugs* I guess.


	44. A Separate Peace (John Knowles)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's got some new ideas for the hotel. Charlie recommends a very peculiar book to Alastor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, there is a reason why this fanfiction has - sort of - two titles.  
> I'm not going to tell you _what_ that exact reason is, because I guess I don't really need to. Just read the chapter.^^ Trust me on this one.
> 
> Also - do you **see** what I did there? The _text decorations_ and everything? Thanks to the wonderful [ BrightMamaSun](https://twitter.com/BrightMamaSun1), I can now use coding in my beginning notes, end notes and comments!^^
> 
> Anyway! Please enjoy the chapter!^^

A couple of unremarkable yet very important days passed, in which I worked hard on this new _idea_ that had begun taking firm shapes in my mind, shortly after my private conversation with Al. 

And when said idea, after a few feverish hours-slash-days of working hard, making calls and barely eating/drinking anything at all, had finally been finalized on my laptop and on the papers I had printed, I decided to call in a special meeting for all the hotel’s employees and/or other important persons.

Except for Niffty, who was hired to clean. Sooo… well, that’s what she should do. Nothing else.

But anyway… 

Alastor, Vaggie, Husk and Angel Dust all looked at me expectantly as I paced around in front of the whiteboard in my and Vaggie’s office. The whiteboard had all kinds of important dates, names, courses, summaries and enumerations scrabbled on it. They were lovely decorated with the best and most colorful sharpies I had and, to be fair, I was pretty proud of the result!

“So!” I said, while swatting the back of my hand against the notes I held in my other hand. “I trust all of you have studied the information I prepared for you yesterday?” 

“Yes,” Al and Vaggie said.

“A little,” Husk shrugged.

“What _information,”_ Angel Dust frowned. “Ya only gave me _another_ stack of papers and ohhhh. Ah. Yea. I gotcha.”

He made those annoying finger guns at me – just two these days, but the gesture was still _very_ groan-worthy – and I gave him the stink eye. “Angel, come _on…”_

Said spider demon immediately got defensive. _“What,_ dammit? Alastor traumatized me with his… his fuckin’ literature reading assignment! Nowadays I can’t even look at a roll of toilet paper anymore without feelin’ queasy!”

“Oh no, poor you, whatever should we do,” Vaggie monotonously said, shaking her head with a sigh. “Give me a break. Like you sit around staring at toilet rolls all day long.” 

Angel made a face at her. “I _could_ be!”

“I second that,” Husk said, raising a hairy paw. “He’s useless like that.”

“Why _thank you_ Husky Baby – wait, _hey!”_

“What? You’re a piece of shit. Might as well spend the day looking at something that actually is useful.”

“Something that might even _threaten_ said piece of shit,” Vaggie snickered darkly. 

“Dammit – _good_ one, Vaggie.”

Vaggie and Husk high-fived each other, while Angel looked on in quiet rage and Al just sat there, having not the faintest idea of what was even going on anymore. It almost was comical, really. _Almost._

“Excuse me – did I miss something? Why are we talking about toilet paper? I don’t recall Charlie’s plan being about… toilet paper. But perhaps that was my mistake. Let me do a quick check!” 

Al opened up his paperwork and wanted to flip through it, but I sighed, mouthed “no” to him and raised two fingers to my lips, blowing a hard, shrill _pweeeeeeet!_ -sound through the babbling chamber. 

“Ow!”

“For _fuck’s_ sake, Charlie!”

It worked: everybody instantly shut up and turned to stare at me once again. 

“Okay – can I have everybody’s attention again, please? _Thank_ you!” I ignored the angry glares some of them gave me and coughed. “Ahem! As I was saying – most of you have read the papers I handed out to you, but since Husk and Angel didn’t study them, I’ll give you a brief summary of the plans I have for the hotel, for the following months.” 

In the next half hour, I explained – in as much detail as I could, hence the white board and the prepared paperwork – about the rather large-scaled Procedure and Human interaction-therapy classes I was planning to follow, together with Vaggie, Alastor, Angel and Husk. Thanks to my mom’s connections (and her crippling guilt about dad having ruined our lunch date a couple of days ago, no doubt), I had been able to get in contact with a whole bunch of former therapists. Sinners who had been counselors, life coaches, educators, psychologists and even those people who do acupunctures – there really were a lot of them! 

We’d start doing some sort of night class somewhere next week. The most logical and obvious subject to follow first, namely Psychology. We didn’t need to have books for this course (there barely were any books in Hell, after all), but according to mom, these teachers/therapists were ‘experts’ in their fields, and therefore, we should just make sure to pay a lot of attention to the lessons, take notes and do the weekly assignments. The therapists would come to the hotel twice a week, and at the end of the month, we’d get the chance to get some sort of certificate if we passed both the theoretical as the practical test.

After Psychology, we’d also get a crash course on Group Therapy, an Expressive Therapy-class, Meditation, both Cognitive and Behavioral Therapy-classes and a seminar on Bibliotherapy – or just book therapy. There were so many kinds of therapies existing, even in Hell – I knew for sure that if all of us did our best to develop ourselves and become sort-of therapists, it would be a very important _second_ step to Heaven for most sinners in my hotel!

So I told my friends and co-workers all about my idea and about how much I had already arranged in just one week time, and I had hoped they’d be just as enthusiastic about the new activities in order to help the sinners as I was…

…but when I finally asked them what their thoughts were about my plans and suggestions, they were met with… well, skeptical raised eyebrows and tilted heads. 

I should have expected that – this was still Hell, after all, and optimism wasn’t one of the main characteristic of most… criminals and thugs. Still, I felt my heart sink when I saw my comrades’ reluctant faces.

“A-alright,” I said, brushing my hair from my face and putting my papers down on my table, anxiously sitting down, “are there… any questions?”

 _Zap_ – the hands of almost all people seated in the room shot into the air. They noticed and even smiled smugly to one another about it. 

“Ohhh boy.” I sighed and nodded to Vaggie, signaling her that she could speak up, first.

“Okay,” she said, smiling gingerly, almost as if she wanted to soften the blow, “these therapists that are willing to teach us how to… talk some sense and redemption into the sinners of the hotel or whatever… they are sinners themselves as well, are they not? They… um, live in _Hell,_ right?”

“I – yes, they… do.”

“So they were _bad_ people.”

“Yyyyeah, but hear me out!” I hastily said. “Bad people or not, they _still_ have the knowledge to help us out! Despite the… despicable things they did to end up in Hell, they _still_ have the experience and expertise to be worthy of their titles, diplomas and licenses. Besides, according to my mother, ever since word got out that some of the hotels’ sinners got themselves partly reformed, more and more residents of Hell are carefully showing _interest_ in the hotel – like these therapists! Mom said they want to better themselves, too – by helping us out.”

Vaggie was quiet for a little while, before nodding ever so slightly. “Alright Charlie. If you trust them, and if even your mother says she believes them, I’ll trust them as well.”

I smiled at her, thankful for her attempt to try and think the best of it. Al hadn’t been the only one who had been making some serious personal progression, I realized. Vaggie was doing the best she could, too, and for that, I was very proud of her.

I turned to Husk next, who had also raised his hairy hand. 

“So,” he started with a grunt, “when you say these crooks ‘want to help us out’… you mean that there’s no money in it for them? Just their so-called _desire_ to help us become therapists – that it?”

“That’s it,” I nodded. 

“Holy _shit,_ that’s convenient. Are Lilith and Lucifer threatening to stuff them into a burning volcano if they dare to refuse or something?”

I shrugged non-committal. “I… don’t _think_ so, no? I simply told mom during one of our phone calls about this idea I had and then she said to call me back the next day, and… that’s all.”

“So they threatened them,” Husk decidedly said.

“They totally threatened them,” Vaggie nodded.

“They threatened them so hard,” Angel Dust enthusiastically put his two cents in, “that even those floaty jackasses in Heaven could hear their _moans_ and cries of _passion_ the other day! Yea! I know _I_ heard them!” 

After a short and tense silence, Vaggie groaned and gave the chair he sat on a hard kick. “Oh for _Christ_ sake, Angel, you’re so fucking _insufferable.”_

“Yeah, that weren’t fucking therapist getting their asses handed over to them you heard – that was just…”

Husk glanced over to me and Alastor, wondering whether or not to say it out loud. 

“Yes…?” Angel said, snickering, because of course he had just pretended to be a dumbass. 

I almost fell off my chair when I realized and shook my beet-red head at Husk, making hysterical crossing movements with my arms. 

Al blinked, blissfully oblivious, watching me, Angel Dust and Husk in almost cute puzzlement. “Yes? What _was_ it you and that pathetic spider creature heard, Husker?”

Angel gasped. _“Rude!”_

“Cats,” Husk ultimately decided. “I heard… um, cats.” 

While Angel _tsk’ed,_ heavily disappointed, I breathed out in relief.

Alastor heard, _finally_ started putting one and one together and gave finally me this – this _self-righteous_ look. “Actually, I do not think he heard _cats_ the other night.”

I promptly whacked the back of his head with my papers. “Just – just _ssshhhhh,_ Al. _Shhhhh.”_

“Ouch.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry – did I hurt you? Did I paper-cut you head? Are you okay?”

Vaggie rolled her eyes as I apologetically patted a very fulfilled-looking Al’s head. When Angel then started nagging at the two of us to just simply admit we had been the ones waking up the entire hotel the other night (to which I responded with incomprehensible stammering and Al with just a simple shrug), Vaggie and Husk looked on with annoyed expressions on their faces that increasingly got worse and worse.

But eventually, she got fed up with us, _all_ of us, really, and cleared her throat, _harshly._

(She also kind of threw a chair on the floor. The unpleasant clattering of _that_ sudden action probably was what did the trick.)

“Hey – HEY! Before we all get off-track again, just one more question.”

“Y-yes?” I immediately said, taking every opportunity to get out of this awkward situation. 

“What about him?” Vaggie eyed Alastor with a frown. 

“What _about_ me, my dear?” Al asked. 

“Is he – are you…” Vaggie rubbed her forehead – then faced Alastor decently. “Are you actually going to follow those classes as well? Are you going to be a – a _therapist?_ Is the deadly Radio Demon going to be a fucking _shrink?”_

“Hm, well…”

“Maybe we’re not exactly becoming actual _therapists_ – I believe that’s putting it a bit too strongly,” I reasoned, answering Vaggie before Alastor could say more. “After all, we’re not all of a sudden full-fledged, licensed experts after following a class of only a few weeks. We… just don’t really have anything to lose, and since there _will_ be a few former therapy professionals around who’d like to teach us all about their specialty… hey, why not try going the therapy-route?”

 _“You_ have _enough_ to lose,” Vaggie said. “You’re already losing – things.”

I didn’t say anything in response to that, but I didn’t look away, either. I just gave her the most neutral, indifferent, oblivious smile I could muster. Taking the Alastor-way out.

“Shit.” Vaggie gritted her teeth. “Sorry, Charlie.”

“Are we _done_ now?” Angel then asked, successfully distracting both me and Vaggie from our conflicting emotions and spontaneous staring contest. “Look, blondie, ya have told us about your plan and everything, and sure, I don’t really think it’s gonna be all that great, but eh – that’s what I thought about that book plan and you and Deer Daddy’s relationship as well. But now I actually like to read every now and then and you two are fuckin’ like _rabbits_ lately, so what do _I_ know, right? You have my blessings. Now, can I go now and have lunch already – it’s _noon,_ dammit. Thank youuuu.”

Angel didn’t wait for an answer – he simply stood up from his chair up and walked out of the door, followed by Husk. I guess that was just their… style or something. I wished I could say I’d rather wanted to end the meeting in a more… normal and common way, but in actuality, I was happy they just up and left. They had listened to my plans, they had quarreled with each other and me about it, and in the end they sort of told me they were okay with it and the meeting was over. 

So although they weren’t _convinced_ about the quality and viability of my suggestion to go the therapy-route with the hotel, they weren’t _opposed_ to it, either. That was a win in my book. 

Meanwhile, Vaggie and I still stood face to face, the both of us too stubborn to look away from the other…

…until Alastor simply put his hands on my shoulder and pushed me into the direction of the office’s door.

“Well! This has all been exceptional nice and cozy – _especially_ the talking about me without actually talking to me part, now _that_ was a _hoot_ – but I do believe it’s time for me and Charlie’s well-deserved break time. Do you mind, Vaggie?”

Vaggie put her arms over one another. “Do whatever you want, Alastor. And, um. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Al seemed absolutely blown away by Vaggie’s apology (as was _I_ , really), but only for a moment. When that fleeting moment had passed, Alastor simply chuckled, took me by the hand and lead me out of the office.   


**CcC**   
  


Alastor and I had started visiting the library on our breaks again this week. 

Although there _were_ people coming to our former hiding spot nowadays, Al had recently hung up a note on the library’s door, stating that he didn’t want anybody inside the library between 12 and 1 PM. He had also wrote he’d personally obliterate any unfortunate soul that felt gutsy and went and stayed in the library during that sole hour anyway, but of course, such a… drastic action had not been needed so far.

It felt nice to be able to return to our former resting place, where we could just… sit down, read books and even talk about all sorts of things in private. It also brought back a bit of structure I had been missing last week, with the… redeeming and everything that had got something to do with it. 

Al reached for the door and held it open for me, even making a way too over the top reverence as I giggled and passed him by. 

“By the way,” I said, as Alastor followed me into the library and closed the door behind him, “Wasn’t it nice of Vaggie, to actually _apologize_ to you for thinking – and saying out loud, I guess – that she doubted you’d make a good therapist? That was – wow. I mean… that’s nothing like Vaggie!”

“It’s the result of her wish to believe in you,” Al noted, as he folded his arms on his back and started walking down a random row of lined-up bookcases. “And therefore, she needs to believe in _me_ as well.”

I smiled as I walked behind him. “That’s not going to be easy for her, I’m sure.”

“Ha! No, I suppose not. However, Charlie… although I’m flattered by your sometimes misguided trust in me, I can’t help but think Vaggie may be _right_ about me, not being suitable for being a… pseudo therapist.”

He stopped for a bookcase and rummaged around in it. I stood by and studied his back.

“Are you doubting your own qualities?”

 _“Qualities,_ you say?’ Al pulled out a book and gave me an amused grin. “You think I may have what it takes to become some sort of psychologist, my dear? Have you forgotten what kind of person I _am,_ perhaps?”

I ignored the accusing, maybe even mocking tone in his voice and looked at him.

“I know what kind of man you are, and I think you could be a great therapist.”

The sarcastic smirk around his lips slowly disappeared, making place for some earnest, almost innocent curiosity. I could tell he wanted me to explain myself – but, just to be mean and to get back for him acting all haughty like that, I simply smiled at him, twirled around and made my way through the jungle of books. After all, there was a book I needed to find here. It should be somewhere close-by the letter M. 

Behind me, I could almost _hear_ Al’s bewilderment, before he decided to pursue me. He refused to press the issue further, as he was way too prideful to ask me to pretty please tell him why I was so positive about the idea of him being a therapist, but judging from the annoyed radio noises fizzling around me, he was having a hard time with that.

Eventually, as I came to the right bookcase and managed to get a ridiculously thick and heavy book out of it, Alastor got enough of it and heaved a resigned sigh.

“Would you _please_ share your arguments with me already, my love?”

“Hmmm?” I muttered, reading the back of the book, just to see if this was the right one (it was). 

Alastor brought a hand up to his face and clasped it in frustration. “Why do you think I would make a great therapist?” 

“Because you’re honest,” I responded right away, looking up at him. “You’re kind of a proud asshole, sure, and you can be incredibly cruel, insensible and egocentric, but – at least you don’t _lie_ about it. You don’t make promises you can’t keep or you’re not _planning_ to keep and you make things very clear right from the start.”

Alastor nodded silently.

“And you’re man enough to admit when you’re wrong about something – eventually, at least. Plus, you have _standards_ – even if those standards are, to put it lightly, a bit questionable as well. So yeah, thinking about what kind of sinners we’ll be helping out here in the hotel, I believe you’d be a perfect match for those hard-boiled, grumpy sinners that don’t want any pleasantries or wacky, namasté-like yoga-whisperers.”

Alastor kept on nodding, his smile growing again. Only this time, it wasn’t as evil as it was before.

“That’s why,” I concluded. 

“You have some very compelling arguments there,” he had to admit. “And who knows – maybe you’re right? I have to say I’m interested in this path you’re trying to push me onto.”

A cold chill went through my body as I was reminded of my nightmare a couple of days ago. The Angels. Alastor’s cackling. Alastor’s _heart._

I instinctively grabbed his arm, rougher than I meant to do.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m – I’m not trying to trick you into becoming a better person! I just think you have certain qualities that could be used for the greater good. So don’t think I’m… forcing you to become somebody you don’t want to become. That’s the _last_ thing I want to accomplish.”

Al seemed a bit taken aback at my frantic statement and chuckled, wrestling his arm out of my grip and gently putting a hand on my back. 

“I never said _that,_ my dear. Besides, if I believed you were trying to force me in whatever way, I’d simply _refuse_ to do whatever you would want me to do or become. You know that very well.”

“I do,” I muttered, and allowed him to guide us back to the chaise longue, where we sat down.

I looked down to the book in my hands, frowned and was about to ask Al something, when he beat me to it and kindly touched my face, turning it his way.

“Now what’s that book about, my dear, because I don’t believe you simply plucked that humongous thing from the shelve to read it yourself.”

I tried act insulted and puffed my cheeks. “Well what if I _was_ planning to actually read it?”

“Then I’d be severely surprised. What is it even about?” He took it from my hands and studied the cover, the backside right after. Then he got this steely look in his clashing eyes.

“ _The Discovery of Heaven_ ,” he read out loud. 

“Y-yeah,” I said, swallowing something, and scooted towards him, pointing to the summary on the back. “I looked up information about it online. You see, it’s – it’s about this angel-like being that is instructed to return the stone tablets with the Ten Commandments written on them to Heaven. They were given to Moses by God once, but now they need to be put back on their rightful place. The angel is unable to go to Earth, though, and therefore begins to manipulate and influence happenings on Earth, in order to create a human being that is able to return the tablets, just like Moses was able to accept them. And thus, the tale of a number of characters begins.”

“Is Heaven discovered by this human being in the end?” Alastor asked.

“If I’d tell you, I’d spoil—”

“I want to know.”

I hesitated, but gave a small nod. “It – it is. He discovers Heaven.”

“Ah. I see.” Al patted on the big book. “So, for some reason, you’d like me to read a tale about a human being’s trials and tribulations during his – successful – search for Heaven.”

I kept quiet and fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. I even managed to make a hole in it.

“It’s… it’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it,” I finally mumbled.

“Well _I’d_ say so!” Al laughed and took one my hands, squeezing it affectionately – and reassuringly. “Ahh, don’t make such a droopy face, my love – I think it’s _adorable_ you keep on trying to get me to like Heaven. Especially since you want me to like it so _passionately.”_

Relieved to see he understood my actions, I squeezed back. “I’m – I’m just scared that you might get redeemed, while not _wanting_ to get redeemed, and then end up getting dragged away to Heaven by Angels.”

Alastor hummed to that and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against him. I easily let him.

“Charlie, my darling.”

I cuddled up to him and raised my head. “Yeah?”

“Let me promise you this much: only when the day comes I genuinely _want_ to go to Heaven, I’ll readily let myself get taken to it. Until that day comes – which is _never,_ let me put it out there – I stay _here,_ by your side, and I’ll allow you to do whatever you want to do to get me to like Heaven. As long as you’re _honest_ about your actions, that is. However, you _will_ have to accept it when your attempts ultimately fail or when I don’t want to humor you.”

His hand rubbed up and down my upper arm in a comforting, yet resolute manner.

“Is that fine with you, my love?”

“It is,” I agreed. “I think it’s more than I had hoped for.”

“Well that’s nice.” He paused – then carried on. “Charlie – if you could, would _you_ like to go up to Heaven?” 

I leaned against him and closed my eyes for a moment. “I’d love to.”

“Hmm. I figured you would.”

“It’s like this perfect place, a place where everybody’s happy and there’s no war, fights or despair anywhere, only… acceptation. Love. Good people. Dad’s family and friends – considering he has nice family members and friends, of course.” I let Al’s fingers push themselves in-between mine and sighed. “I’d… I absolutely _love_ to be part of that place, yes. However – I’d only like to ascend to Heaven when all of my hotel’s sinners had been redeemed, _first.”_

He chortled. “That sounds like a condition you would have, yes.”

“I think it’s reasonable.”

“Oh it is. It’s perfectly _normal,_ even. No good captain of a ship ever leaves their sinking vessel first. They need to think of the passengers, the workers, the other people abroad… they hold responsibility for everybody embarked on the ship, after all. Only when everybody has left the vessel, only _then,_ the captain can depart from the boat as well… or go down with it. It’s a maritime tradition.” 

I let out a nervous chuckle. “Um… it’s a bit… _eerie_ to compare leaving Hell for Heaven to a sinking, doomed ship, don’t you think?” 

Alastor didn’t reply right away. He sat still, although his hand continued caressing my upper arm, and obviously thought hard about something, staring far off into the distance. He didn’t even react when I started wagging a hand in front of his face.

“Charlie,” he suddenly said, twisting his face towards me and making me jump a bit. 

“Y-yes?”

“Did you know?” He grinned. “When the Titanic sunk in 1912, the captain naturally perished with it. I heard all about it. But you know what _other_ notable people refused to leave the ship while it sunk into the deep darkness of the sea?”

“Um…” I blinked, confused.

“The musicians of the band aboard of the ship. They played their music until the very last minute, to calm down the panicking passengers, who were doing their best to get on one of the lifeboats. They had time and more than enough chances to try and get into one as well, but they refused to do so and, like the captain, they went down with the Titanic.”

“Oh, that – that sounds terribly heroic. And _tragic.”_

“Oh, yes yes, tragic it was! Such fine, brave men, drowning like rats while they played their music… Why, I bet they were _so_ stubborn, they'd even let their beloved captain escape the hellish deathtrap of a boat before them, if they had been given that choice!” 

I felt a bit uneasy and gave Alastor a weird look. “Al… where are you going with this? What are you trying to tell me, really?”

But instead of answering, Alastor only gave me a fond smile and pulled my face closer to his, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on my lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'A Seperate Peace' is a coming-of-age novel. At least, that's what Wikipedia says - I confess I haven't read this book yet, but it IS a rather interesting one… so maybe I will read it later on.  
> The main character in the book is Gene. When he was about 16 years old, he lived at Devon, a fictional prep school. His best friend and roommate is Phineas (better known as Finny) and although the two friends are each other's polar opposites, they share a very close and amical friendship. At a certain moment, Gene gets a bit jealous of his more atletic and outgoing friend Finny and challenges him to jump off a giant tree into the Devon River below it. As the two friends stand on the branch, Gene gets so excited that he more or less accidentally makes Finny fall off the branch, causing him to shatter his leg, crippling him. Finny can't compete in sports anymore and Gene is ridden with guilt. He spends a large part of the story wondering just why, why, why he had shaken that branch, and whether or not it really was just an impulsive accident... or something else. The ending is pretty heart-wrenching, if I have to believe what other people say about it.  
> The reason why this book was controversial, was because reviewers found the novel to be a 'filthy, trashy sex novel'... even though there apparently is no sex in the book at all! However, it's more likely it's because of the (unintentional, according to the writer) homoerotic undertones between Gene and Finny why people weren't all that crazy about the book.


	45. Their Eyes Were Watching God (Zora Neale Hurston)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith and Lucifer are 100% fed up with Alastor and his antics. Luckily, Lucifer has a plan.

Now, before I’ll go on to talk about the many… _happenings_ that transpired today, it probably would be best to tell you all about this… clumsy and rather _awkward_ habit Lucifer has of walking in on Charlie having sexual interaction with others. 

Because, unfortunately enough, my darling Lucifer _has_ caught Charlie in the act of lovemaking before.

 _Twice,_ even.

Yes.

Maybe it had become more like a form of art than a habit, in all honesty… 

The first time, when Charlie was still living with us, he simply _invaded_ her bedroom while our darling daughter was busy undressing herself for her lover at that time – I can’t remember who it was, but I believe it was a very coy, quiet girl that nearly got an aneurysm when Lucifer _smacked_ the door open and loudly exclaimed that ‘dinner was served for the two lovely lovebirds!~’.

Charlie then proceeded to gently shoo her father out of the room by throwing a collection of her fluffy slippers into his face and screaming wonderfully colorful profanities from the top of her lungs.

The girl broke up with her soon after, if I recall correctly…

Oh, well.

No wonder I don’t remember the wench’s name.

The second time was when Lucifer, out of _nowhere,_ decided to clean all of the palace’s bathrooms. My husband’s hyperactive mind is an unknown, wild maze to me, but I _do_ know the man gets bored rather quickly. Charlie should have known that as well – or at _least_ have locked her bathroom door when she and Vaggie were having a grand old time in the bathtub.

But, well. You know. She _didn’t._

And a mere fifty minutes after Lucifer had went upstairs with all of his good intentions and ridiculous cleaning gear, I had to console a very sad and slightly traumatized fallen angel with soothing words and a raw steak for the black eye his sudden and very unwanted intrusion had rewarded him with.

Perhaps it was pure coincidence, but not too long after that second unwanted invasion of our daughter’s privacy, Charlie started making serious plans about moving out of the palace and into that damned chalet/hotel she liked so much.

So it went.

I had thought and hoped _Lucifer’s_ ‘accidentally catching Charlie in the middle of (almost) having sex’ –days were finally over as soon as our daughter was living on her own.

And they were! Since she wasn’t around anymore. After all, it’s quite difficult to walk in on your daughter having sex when said daughter practically lives on the other side of Hell, all the way in Pentragram City. 

But then, incidentally, the whole Lunch Debacle happened.

Also, on the very same day as the aforementioned Lunch Debacle, the Third Time happened.

I happened to be in the middle of an important conversation with one of our servants when Lucifer, who was already upstairs, bellowed an enraged scream that lasted for at least two minutes and fourteen seconds (I timed it, since I got impressed after the howling didn’t grow less after the first seconds had passed). 

What followed was him, racing down the stairs, tripping over his own feet near the end of the stairway and falling flat on his face while he kept on yelling about how he’d ‘ ** _KILL THAT RED FUCKING SON OF A BITCH_** ’ and that he then would kill said son of a bitch again and then he admitted he didn’t know what else he would do to said son of a bitch after all that, but it involved a lot of stabbing, poisoning, shooting, strangling and slaughtering. He also mentioned ‘making him dead’ a couple of times.

It was a good thing I successfully took hold of him before Lucifer could gather himself from the ground, because I _do_ believe Alastor had been a goner if I had let my husband leave the palace in the state he was in.

After Luci had calmed down somewhat, an hour or so later (it was so endearing: during that hour, he kept on struggling to get out of my steel grip, but naturally to no prevail – that silly, noodle-armed man!), Lucifer told me he apparently had made yet another connection with Alastor just now.

But the Radio Demon had been very… busy.

Connecting _himself._

To _Charlie._

As in _inside_ of – you know what, I think you get the picture.

Anyway, Lucifer seemed convinced Alastor had deliberately seduced Charlie into shagging him to spite him. I tried telling him that maybe, just _maybe,_ Charlie – who had been _very_ mad at him when she more or less told us to hit the road – had been fully aware of Alastor’s scheme as well, but Lucifer wanted none of that.

“No, Lili. I’ve had enough of it. He went too far this time,” he grunted, composing himself at last as he gently but strictly removed my arms from him, “and for that, I’ll make him _**pay**_ – I’ll make that damn maroon madman _**suffer**_ for all the shit he’s making me go through.”

He sounded calm and collected now, no matter how much his blood still boiled red hot at this point, and I felt a little bit concerned.

Also, _slightly_ turned on.

“What are you going to do, apple pie?” I watched him fix his clothes and rub over a scratch on his cheek. “Are you going to send him to the Void?”

Lucifer didn’t reply at first.

I removed his hand from his face – he would only dirty it like that – and pulled him closer to me, pressing a longing kiss on the bleeding wound. 

Bitter and sweet, like an unripe apple.

“I won’t stop you, angel face. You are the King, after all. Still – I must warn you. Put an end to one of Hell’s most dangerous overlords and Charlie might never want to speak with you again. She will _never_ forgive you – or _me,_ for all that matters. Do you want that to happen?”

He scoffed – but his shoulders slouched right that instant. 

“Of course _not._ The last thing I want to do is making Charlotte even _angrier_ at me.”

I smiled, nodding. “That is what I thought. Therefore, you should try and do something that actually _pleases_ her.”

“Lili, my love, I love you so and I swoon every time you do as much as _blink_ in my general direction – but if you think that I’m going over to that rickety hotel of that daughter of ours, temporarily _disjoint_ her from that cheap, second handed import version of the Radio Demon I used to know and tell that fucker he has my fatherly blessings to screw Charlotte’s brains out whenever he wants to from now on and even get – _fucked-up gross deer babies with her_ —“

“You _really_ ought to stop thinking about deer babies already, Luci.” I sniggered, bent down, put my mouth close to his ear and wrapped a lock of his blonde hair behind his pale auricle. “No, apple pie – _think_ about it. I’m sure you know of a way to do _both_ – to get back on Alastor for disrespecting you _and_ to make our lovely daughter happy.”

Lucifer stared at me and his big, clownish eyes with the thin, pointy pupils I adored so much blinked once, twice.

Then realization dawned upon him, and his lips formed a wicked little ‘o’. He swiftly took me into his arms, made me do a twirl and dipped me low. I gasped in surprise and held on to him tightly. I was a lot bigger than Hell’s King, but that didn’t mean in any way he was weaker than me. 

“Lilith, my Queen – you are _radiant_ with intelligence. So very much so – I can’t even see anymore! I’m _blinded!_ I’m thoroughly blinded by your immense, larger-than-life _brightness!_ Oh – your _light!_ She _engulfs me so_! She—” 

“Ow,” I said as my curly horns hit and scraped over the ground.

“Oh shit, sorry.” Luci quickly put me back on my two feet again and smiled sheepishly at me. “But, uh, anyway – yes! Yes. You are right, Lilith, you marvelous mistress of my heart! I know what I have to do now. Let’s get down to business _right_ away!”

Without giving me anymore explanation, he pulled out his phone – it had took him a while to get used to the thing when he first got it, but Lucifer was nothing if not an admirable go-getter – and thumbed the screen, already engrossed in his conversation with Lord-knows-who when he left the hallway with a flourish.

Content with this fortunate outcome, I turned back to my servant – a pig demon who had been watching us all this time and now had a rather rattled look on her plump face.

“Um… you still wanted to discuss the activities planned for the following weekend…?”

“Naturally.” I shot her a cold look and tenderly stroke the bruised base of my horns. “I _do_ hope you make listening to you worth my time, dear.”

And now that nice little tidbit of background information is out of the way, we get back to _today.  
_

  
**III  
  
**

As I entered the meeting room my darling Lucifer had told me to come, I stumbled upon a room veiled in complete darkness, safe for the light of a couple of candles on the broad table and the burning lights of the black chandelier, dangling high from the ceiling.

There, at the head of the table, sat Lucifer. Surrounded by the mysterious glows the few sources of light could provide, his elbows were propped onto the tabletop, his hands constricted together and his chin rested placed right on them. The curtains were closed and the only sound one could hear was the spooky ticking of a clock, somewhere in this room.

“Hello Clarice – I mean, Lilith,” he said. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

“What are you even doing?” I asked – but went and sat with him anyway, because he looked criminally _adorable,_ sitting in the dark and scheming something like a bad little kid like this.

As soon as I sat down, Lucifer suddenly lifted his head up and gave me an excited smile. “Pretty damn _creepy,_ isn’t it? What do you say, my Queen – is welcoming a Heavenly guest from Paradise in a room with _this_ spooky setup enough to intimidate them into obeying my every word?”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what you’re trying to accomplish,” I said, watching a spider crawl over the table top. “Well – it sure is unsettling to enter this room and see you sitting here like that, if that’s what you were aiming for.”

“Good! Very good!” Luci nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Now all we have to do is wait till our guest arrives.”

“Was it hard, arranging this meeting?” I liked to know.

My apple pie shrugged. “It’s a good thing I’m still on kind-of good terms with my brothers in Heaven. Sure, I had to pull a few strings, but in the end, I got what I wanted: a devoted representative from Heaven.”

“You know this Angel?”

“Nope. All I know is what Gabe and Jerry told me about him. He’s apparently a plain Angel, working directly under Jerry – oh don’t give me that look, you know _Jerry,_ don’t you, he’s mister ‘Divine Deliverer of Mercy and Grace’ yada yada. Anyway, he’s one of Jerry’s guys, but Mike and Gabe trained him while doing some heavy Power Angel bootcamp last Summer, so I guess that’s all been taken care of.”

“Oh _Luci.”_ I smiled sweetly at my husband. “I haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re babbling on about.”

“Oh. Okay! Let me put it this way then: according to my brothers, our visitor is a righteous Angel who knows how to brutally kick some sinner’s ass as well. He’s _just_ the goody-two-shoes we need!”

“How exciting.”

“Isn’t it??” Lucifer chuckled and fondled his cheeks. “I expect him to arrive in about… two minutes.”

But Lucifer had barely finished his sentence or a soft knock on our door made us look up in surprise. 

Razzle and Dazzle, Charlie’s bodyguards (who we now sort-of had adopted for a little while), stood in the doorway of the meeting room, smiling silently as they gestured to a being behind them. Said being tried to look into the odd dark room in front of him, but the goat demons did the best they could to block us from his sight, at least until we were ready for him.

“He’s here already?” I asked, surprised.

“Crap – quick, cutie pie, be _sinister!_ Like _me!”_ Lucifer quickly hunched back over the table top and made his eyes glance just over his hands forebodingly as he scraped his throat.

 **“You may enter, Angel from Above.”**

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. Silly Luci.

  
**III**   
  


A little while later, our visitor was seated on the other side of the table. He had wanted to sit down next to me first, but Lucifer had said ‘tututututututut, you need to sit over _there’_ and had directed him with jerkish head movements to the left side of the table. 

The Angel had given him a weird look, but obeyed anyway and claimed his place at the table. 

Although it was dimly lit in the room, I had no problems with studying the Heavenly being sitting across from me. He didn’t look like an Exterminator, as the Angels of Death who killed off quite an impressive number of sinners every year were called. But that most likely was due to the fact that this wasn’t an Exterminator – this was just a plain Angel. 

He looked rather plain as well. Nothing like the uncanny, robot-like bird-creatures that dared calling themselves ‘Angels’. He looked more like Luci, but longer and with a faintly glowing halo floating above his head: a blonde young man with big, blue eyes and a pair of fantastic white wings attached to his back. They appeared to be the wings of a swan, I found myself thinking, and I wondered all of a sudden whether or not Luci ever had been in the possession of such marvelous wings as well. The only noticeable thing about this Angel, the thing that possibly made him unique, was the fact that the fair skin of his soft face was riddled with violent cuts and deep, scar-like wounds.

**“Welcome to my palace, Hakim.”**

The Angel looked around. “Who is this Hakim you speak of, Your Highness?”

**_“You_ are Hakim.” **

“What? No I am _not.”_ The Angel frowned. “I am a mere Angel. I do not possess a name.”

“Now don’t be a little bitch about it – I’m not going to call you ‘what’s-your-face’ during the time we work together, so either you accept this very cool name I chose for you (it means ‘the Wise’ – how awesome is that) or you come up with one of your own,” Lucifer huffed, slipping out of his role as Evil Ruler of Hell once again.

The Angel stared at Lucifer like he had completely lost it – a common reaction Lucifer got a lot when he met people that didn’t know him all that well. 

“I could also call you Bob,” Lucifer offered. 

_“Bob?"_ Our guest looked downright offended.

“So Hakim it is! Good for you – I liked that name better as well.” Lucifer cleared his throat again. **“Anyway, Hakim. How nice of you to come to Hell. What do you think of my humble home so far?”**

“I do not know.” Hakim – he didn’t protest it anymore – looked around once more. “It is a very dark place, I suppose.”

 **“You got that right! It is indeed _very_ dark!”** Lucifer winked at me, as if he wanted to say _told you so!._ **“Are you feeling intimidated yet?”**

“Is… that why everything is darkened?” 

**“Maybe!”**

“Why do you feel the need to intimidate me?” Hakim wanted to know. “The mighty and honorable Jeremiel and Gabriel ordered me to go to Hell (literally, of course) and help their ‘fallen brother’ out, and so… here I am. There is absolutely no _need_ to strike fear into my heart, Your Highness.”

“That’s what I thought,” I nodded, smiling smugly at Lucifer.

My husband made an ‘ugh _fine’-sound_ and clapped in his hands a few times. Instantaneously, the curtains opened, the candles were put out and the bright, hellish light of our world’s sun shone through the large windows of the meeting room, bathing everybody in its blinding power. It was so sudden, the three of us even cringed in response to it.

“Well then,” Lucifer said, as soon as we all had gotten used to the changed environment, forgetting all about his Deep Voice because he apparently just got tired of it, “in any case, Hakim, I’m glad you are here.”

“Do not mention it, Sire.” The Angel smiled a bit. “Now, how can I be of any service to you?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Luci stood up from his chair and started pacing around – he always had to shuffle around, that man. Too much restless energy in his body, I bet.

“I have this daughter – Princess Charlotte Magne. She is the wonderful and ever so adorable result of my and Queen Lilith’s _fiery_ love for one another. However, she’s also pretty headstrong and she has a tendency of rubbing me the wrong way. For example, she opened this ridiculous hotel a few months ago – a redemption resort of some sort, with which she hopes to rehabilitate the sinners of Hell. That way, they can go to Heaven instead and won’t need to get slaughtered by the Exterminators – or so Charlotte believes.”

“Is that so?” Hakim was impressed, I could tell. “Your daughter sounds like an amazing, responsible and dependable woman. Someone people can count on. What a _noble_ and _just_ cause she strives for! You must be very proud of her!”

“Uh… yeah, um… very much,” Lucifer slowly said, scratching himself behind his ear. “She, uh… tries her best to redeem the poor souls at her establishment. I… actually didn’t want her to do so, but yeah – my Charlotte was like ‘screw you dad’ and went and did her own thing anyway.”

“And is her hotel working?” Hakim sat upright some more. “Do you need me to check up on some of her sinners? Because that is what I understood from your Heavenly brethren: that there are some redeemed souls who might be ready to ascend to Heaven.”

“Indeed,” I said, catching the Angel’s attention. “There is _one_ sinner in Charlie’s hotel who has completed all the necessary steps in order to get Eternal Salvation. His name is Alastor, but he’s better known by his alias, the Radio Demon.”

“The Radio Demon.” Hakim repeated, furrowing his brows. “I have not heard of this sinner before, but his unusually unimaginative pseudonym suggest he was quite the terror, was he not?”

“He was,” I admitted. “Fortunately, he has bettered his ways and we – I mean, _Charlie_ believes he has what it takes to be accepted into Heaven.” 

Lucifer, who, for once, was on the exact same page as I was, grinned approvingly at me and sat down on his chair again, leaning back and twiddling his thumbs.

“That is great news and I am glad,” Hakim said. “However, _before_ you appoint me to go visit Princess Charlotte and meet this Alastor, I ask you again: are you _absolutely,_ 100% _certain_ he is redeemed and will pass my test? Because you _know_ what will happen to him when he fails it, do you not?”

Luci and I exchanged a quick glance. “We… have a suspicion. We know it’s not _good.”_

The curves of Hakim’s lips bent downwards at that. His admittedly cute, round face stiffened in a matter of seconds and his entire demeanor got a lot more _threatening,_ his cold, blue eyes gleaming eerily at me and Lucifer. 

“A suspicion is not _enough,_ Your Majesty. Knowing this information is _very_ important, in case you are hesitating about this man’s chances to get himself to the pearly gates of Paradise. Allow me to tell you more, because there _will_ be consequences for those who _fail_ the Heavenly Examination.” 

The Angel took an old piece of parchment from under his white robe and rolled it open. He read what it said, in silence. Then he put it back again.

“Now, the good news, first: when a sinner is questioned by an Angel – such as myself – and they pass the test, they will then be granted permission to enter Heaven's gates. Their hard work to better themselves will be acknowledged that way and they are even allowed to keep contact with the friends and family they need to leave behind in Hell. For example, they are allowed to visit Hell every Saturday.”

“That’s pretty neat,” Luci said.

“Yes. However…” Hakim’s eyes darkened. “…if a sinner _fails_ the Heavenly Examination, they will be _instantly_ executed by the Angel that is questioning them. It takes a _lot_ of time and effort for us Angels to come down to Hell and test a sinner who claims to have been rehabilitated. We do have better things to do. Therefore, we do not like to be played for a _fool._ There will be no mercy for the sinners that _dared_ to have lied about their true selves – and the prize they need to pay for misleading beings of Heaven is _death._ It is a heavy retribution, but only _then,_ we will be able forgive the sinner for the grave error they made by thinking they could get into Heaven.”

Lucifer sat on the edge of his seat, wiggling uncomfortably. He swallowed visibly when he spoke up again. 

“How… are the sinners that fail executed, Hakim?”

“We spear them to death.” Hakim tilted his head. “We have perfect spears, lances and javelins for that purpose only. Afterwards, we dispose of the body by throwing it into the Void.”

“Holy _shit,”_ Lucifer whispered.

“Have there been many sinners who managed to successfully ascend to Heaven that way?” I wished to know. 

“I am sorry, Your Highness – that is classified information,” Hakim said. 

“Ah, of course it is.”

“And there you have it.” The Angel’s entire being instantly got more approachable again as he relaxed. “This is all you need to know. Now – let me ask you once more, before I will head out and go to Princess Charlotte’s hotel: are you _positive_ this sinner you have spoken of will pass the test he needs to undergo?”

Once more, Lucifer and I looked at one another. Getting rid of an annoying overlord and his scheming ways was one thing – but making _Charlie_ the unwitting witness of what unquestionably was going to happen to her current lover was a bit _too_ gruesome, even to _my_ liking. Lucifer obviously felt the same, as his nervous face told me, and I thought hard about a possible solution. 

There was only one way: Alastor and Hakim needed to meet one another _outside_ of the hotel, far, _far_ away from Charlie. My optimistic daughter knew for sure sinners could be redeemed, but I didn’t believe Charlie knew about the fate that awaited sinners who failed to pass the Angel’s test. Even Luci and I barely knew anything about it, before meeting Hakim.

We did know enough about it _now,_ though.

I eventually turned to Hakim. 

As in – I raised from my chair and carefully made my charming way towards him, gently touching his shoulders and giving him my most _dazzling_ smile before continuing.

“Hakim, we are _most certain_ you need to put Alastor to the test. We have faith he will pass it, with _flying colors_ , even. But perhaps we… need to discuss some pressing matters we worry about, first. Do you mind, hmmm?”  
  
Hakim’s unfazed face never faltered and his eyes never wandered, but I could swear his face reddened – _just_ a bit.

“Not at all, Your Highness.”

I smiled. Maybe this was going to be easier than I thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People weren’t all that enthusiastic about _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ at first, but right before the 2000s started, the book suddenly got a lot more attention – and it’s nowadays regarded as a very important piece of both female and African-American literature.  
> The story basically tells you the eventful and rather difficult life of a woman named Janie. She was born after her mother got raped by her school teacher and when said mother left, it was up to Janie’s grandmother, Nanny, to try and give Janie the safest life possible. Unfortunately, being married to an older farmer that doesn’t give a crap about Janie isn’t exactly that great of a life. When she leaves him and marries a rich charmer, things only get worse, as this guy abuses her. Only when he dies one day and leaves Janie with all of his estate, Janie finally gets to live her life… somewhat.  
> This book was challenged because of it sexual explicitness… and that was about it, I think.


	46. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Ken Kesey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Alastor talk about Charlie's worries. Alastor picks out a new book for Charlie to read. Razzle and Dazzle return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, one of the most amazing things a fanfic-writer can achieve (I think), is when other fans and artists start making fanart based on/inspired by something you wrote.  
> And the 'Library' actually got a lot of fanart from some of the most amazing and kind artists on Twitter!^^
> 
> It's so great!^^  
> It made me so happy!^^  
> I'm still squealing!^^
> 
> In case you're interested, check out the drawings [Danie](https://twitter.com/eve_danie) made: [ here](https://twitter.com/eve_danie/status/1221989232421425153) and [here](https://twitter.com/eve_danie/status/1246385343298859008).  
> Check also the cool drawings [Chisena](https://twitter.com/ChisenaArt) made [here](https://twitter.com/ChisenaArt/status/1245858005498773508).  
> And then there's also the gorgeous drawing [Lea](https://twitter.com/LeaHopeArt) made (I hope it's okay if I call you Lea, by the way!) [here](https://twitter.com/LeaHopeArt/status/1246458925261762565).
> 
> My god, I was spoiled rotten! 8DDDDD

Al was wandering around the library, looking for a book for me to read. Instead of following him around like an enamored little fangirl, I had decided to just sit down on our favorite weird couch and just wait for him to return. I could tell where he was – I heard his humming was just a few bookcases away from where I was. 

I had finally finished _Pride and Prejudice_ , and Alastor had insisted to pick out the next book for me to try out. Since I had been giving him books to read as well, it was only normal, I guess. This was our _thing_ now: he’d choose a book for me, I’d pick one out for him, and that’s that. I was more than happy to let him pick another fictional work for me – Alastor had a pretty quirky, if not interesting taste in books.

They were _stuffy_ , though. And as old as the freaking _hills_. 

“I want you to recommend me something completely _different_ this time,” I therefore had told him. “Something… unique. Something that’s not like other books.”

“I see. If that is what you want, my dear…”

“And a bit… more _modern_ , please?” I had grinned apologetically at him. “I like most of the books you pick out for me, but they’re all so _ancient_. They were written such a long time ago.”

“Are you accusing me of being an _old man_ for encouraging you to read classic works of pure geniuses?” He had smiled wickedly at me. “My, but that’s _rich_ , coming from you.”

I had squinted my eyes at him. “What do you mean by _that_ , mister?”

“Nothing, my dear gram-gram, absolutely nothing! Now please take a seat, before you strain your delicate, elderly body too much by standing around like a fossilized dinosaur.”

“FOSSILI – Oh my GOD, Al, you BASTARD.” I had smacked a pillow against his arrogantly grinning face – and then he had disappeared in-between the papery jungle of books, cases and bookcases.

As I sat on the couch, staring at the big, stained window and waited for Alastor to come back with a book, I found my initial smile fading from my face. I rubbed my hands together and frowned. Then I got up from the couch and walked over to the window. I had no rest. My body felt… strangely alerted. 

Like it knew something was _off_.

I’m not sure why I was so tense. Sure, I hadn’t heard anything from dad, ever since the… lunch date turned into one big fiasco, but I _had_ heard from mom. I still called her every evening and she had told me that dad was very sorry about what had happened that Sunday. She had even offered to help me out with my new plans for the hotel, no questions asked, which was wonderful and very sweet of her, even _if_ she only did it to get rid of her own guilt, but…

I don’t know. Something just didn’t feel right for some reason. 

Maybe it was because so many other things were actually going _great_. The hotel was doing fine – we even had gotten a few new tenants! – and when I had informed all of the hotel’s sinners about the therapy sessions the hotel staff was planning to do with them, most of the people actually reacted very benevolent. It was like they had gotten more _trusting_ towards me, my ideas and the rest of the crew, thanks to the results of Alastor’s reading assignment. 

According to Vaggie, it showed that I had more or less proven myself in their eyes, and therefore, the hotel’s sinners had gotten milder towards me – wanted to give me more chances – and maybe she was right about that!

Speaking of Vaggie – we were doing pretty much okay now. We had talked a lot about things, and the air between us had become more comfortable. We weren’t as awkward to one another as before and we had even shared quite a few laughs. Angel Dust was doing fine as well – I recently even caught him _reading_. He still hadn’t finished _The Kiss of the Spider Woman_ , since it was a pretty tough book after all, but he refused to put it down – it just spoke to him too much. Niffty was just the same old Niffty, cute and bust as always, and Husk, well – he had actually decided to go and finish up his book as well.

He now no longer had a tail. 

And Al no longer had a living shadow.

It was… kind of scary. Whenever one of the hotel’s sinners eventually came to the conclusion they actually _did_ want to know how their book continued, they pretty much automatically bettered a part of themselves – and I didn’t even had to see the sinner in question to see that, I only needed to take a look at Al and feel this icy chill run rampant over my spine when I noticed yet another new, humane thing about him. 

Oh – Alastor and I were doing alright as well, by the way! As expected, he turned out to be a great help and he took his role as both my co-worker and my lover _very_ seriously. As my business partner, he never held back any snide remarks about the weak points he noticed in my plans and he could be relentless in his comments and complaints, but he was always reasonable and didn’t mind eating his own words whenever I managed to prove my point – and therefore prove _him_ wrong. 

Other than that, he also was a surprisingly accommodating lover who, in spite of his severe lack of interest in sex, _always_ was up for it. 

_Always_.

Like, w-what the _heck_ , Al?

I could literally wake him in the middle of the night and command him to – I don’t know – eat me out or something, and he’d be like ‘well sit your charming self down on my face then’ and just like that, it would happen. He didn’t even have to think about it – he’d do it, simply because he, as he put it, sort-of _mentally_ got off on _me_ getting off.

I mean, even though he was always making sure I would have a good time, he didn’t need to have a good time _himself_ – and though I knew he would let me if I asked, he never seemed really keen on me trying to sexually please _him_. His body just didn’t work that way, he had told me, and he was perfectly fine with that.

Asexuality was such a complicated spectrum, wasn’t it? 

He _did_ like other kinds of intimate physical contact, though. He enjoyed hugs, holding hands and kissing, just like most other persons infatuated with somebody else would, and I embraced that. It was really nice to cuddle up to him in bed and hear him breathe out a barely audible, satisfied sigh… 

There was still so much to learn about Al. 

But at this rate, with him changing a little bit more every day, in many small, weird ways, I wondered just how much time we had left before I had to say goodbye to him. 

It was kind of a depressing thought, and _surely_ I was getting stressed out over nothing, I mean, this was _Al_ we were talking about, the great, unredeemable Radio Demon that had made sure my dad nowadays absolutely _hated_ his guts, haha, but… I just couldn’t help it. 

These worries – they actually kept me awake at night sometimes.

  
**CcC  
  
**

I don’t really know how long I was loafing around in front of Hell’s most beautiful window, but it was long enough for me to drift off in my own depressing thoughts – because I only came back to my senses again when Alastor came to stand behind me and gently wrapped his arms around my waist. 

“Ah – there you are. I had been looking for you, my dear.”

He pulled me against him and when I leaned back, he rested his head on top of mine.

I didn’t say anything right away, and because I didn’t, neither did he. So I guess we just kind of stared out of the window in a comfortable and soothing silence. It was pretty nice, actually. At a certain point, I peeked down, to his hands clasped protectively together against my tummy, before I looked back up again, heaving a sigh that probably was just a tad too cheerless to his liking.

“Well then. A penny for your thoughts, Charlie.”

“Oh – you know.” I bit on my lower lip. “Just… the same thoughts as usual.”

“Thoughts that are related to that one nightmare you had, perhaps?”

“I – I guess so.”

He sighed deeply – I could feel his chest temporarily expand, before it went back to the way it was. 

“I’m not sure if there is anything left I can say to you to put your mind at ease. Will sex help? There are still many _walls_ here, after all. Walls that have been both mocking and inspiring me for weeks now. It’s been so very _bothersome_ – you have _no idea_.”

“No – Christ, Al, just what is it with you and _walls_ – no.” I giggled a bit nevertheless. “Geez. You can’t solve _everything_ with sex. Or… wall-sex, for all it matters.”

“The mere mention of it made you laugh, though.” He chuckled as well and pressed a kiss against the back of my head. “Ah, do forgive me for my awkward comment. Just trying to help, dear.”

“I know.” I absentmindedly patted his cheek, somewhere above me. “Thank you. You’re sweet.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do, my love? Anything at all.”

“There – there might be one thing.”

I swiftly wiggled around in his arms, until I was facing him. I looked at him sternly, while his ill-matching eyes observed me in confusion. 

“Yes?” he asked. 

I started to fidget with the lapels of his vest. “You – you told me before that when the day comes you _want_ to go to Heaven, you’ll willingly leave Hell, right?”

Alastor seemed to sense the unsteadiness of my voice and his eyes narrowed, even though he did give me a curt nod. “Yes. However, I _also_ told you, right after even, that if it is up to me, that day will _never_ come.”

“You said you’d give me the chance to get you to like Heaven,” I shot back. “You _promised_.”

He now downright frowned. “I – did.”

I breathed in shakily and now began to adjust his… stupid little black bowtie. Why did we all wear _bowties_ around the hotel anyway – I mean, was it some sort of trend? Was it hip and happening to have a bowtie around your neck? I didn’t get it – and I even wore one _myself_.

“Charlie – stay with me, dear.” 

Alastor once again pulled me from my bizarre train of thought by pricking a finger against my cheek. When he saw he had my attention once again, he cupped my face with both his hands. 

“It seemed like you were trying to say something. What is it, my love? Do tell me.”

I took his hands from my face and held them tightly with my own. “Can you – promise me something?” 

His expression soured. “That very much depends on what it is you want me to promise you.”

“Alright…” I took in another deep gulp of breath. This wasn’t easy for me. “Now – I don’t know how… it will look like when Angels come down from Heaven and want to take a former sinner with them to Paradise. I _really_ haven’t got the slightest idea. I – don’t even know what those Angels will look like. Dad once told me Heaven’s filled with all kinds of divine beings, so… I don’t really know. _But_. I can imagine the Angels that come down to pick redeemed sinners up, are relatively nice guys. They most likely won’t… aggressively drag you off to Heaven.”

Alastor just nodded – a very short, almost motionless nod.

I carried on. “I want to you to try something. Something to… _hopefully_ get you to like Heaven a little bit more. If – hypothetically, of course – one of those nicer Angels appears before you and offers you a chance to go to Heaven… would you – would you at the very _least_ want to listen to what they have to say about it? Hear them out? And decide on what to do _afterwards_?”

To my shock, Al’s face fell and suddenly looked a bit like the face his dream version made in my nightmare: disheartened, disappointed and maybe even somewhat _insulted_ at my suggestion. He wanted to pull his hands back, but I didn’t let him and took a firmer hold on them. 

Luckily, he didn’t try to pry his hands loose and smiled weakly at me.

“My. You certainly want me to get out of Hell as soon as possible, don’t you?”

I pressed my lips together harshly enough to make this action hurt my mouth. I _had_ to, though – if I stopped doing that, my eyes would start to water again, and I didn’t want to cry. I had cried more than enough lately.

“Please don’t think I hate you.” 

It came out a lot more shaky than I had wanted and I winced at that.

Al managed a soft laugh and shook his head. 

“Oh don't worry, Charlie – I don’t think you hate me at all!”

“Please don’t think I – I want you out of my life as soon as possible,” I blathered on, squeezing his hands so hard it made him grimace. “I - I love you, I love you so very _much_ , and therefore I want the best for you – I… I want nothing _but_ the best for you. It’s not only my responsibility as your Princess and future Queen of Hell to get you in a place where you can be safe and happier than you could ever hope to be here in Hell, it’s… it’s also my duty as your lover. I _want_ you to be happy. I _want_ you to be at a better place. I _want_ you to – to discover Heaven for me, Alastor. Because I _can’t._ ”

I struggled against my tears and let go of Al’s hands, muttering an apology when he tenderly rubbed his reddened, squished hands. I didn’t dare to look at him – I didn’t even really believe I had the right to even _be_ with him in the same room anymore. He had told me time and time again about how much he wanted to stay with me in Hell, how he’d keep me company till the end of times, how he laughed at the very idea of Heaven and how stubbornly he believed he would never want to go to Heaven out of his own accord.

Still, here I was, asking Alastor to _please_ try and get himself reformed and taken away to Heaven anyway if an Angel manages to convince him to come along. 

And why? 

Because I _would like that_.

Even though I also _wouldn't_ like that.

Oh god. 

I had no idea blatant self-centeredness could feel so damn _painful_.

  
**CcC**

For the third time that day, I found myself locked up again in my own stressed-out mind.

And for the third time, that day, it was Alastor who once again managed to reach me and get me back into the real world, this time by wordlessly pulling me over to the chaise longue and sitting me down next to him. I blinked at him in a daze when he pushed a book into my hands.

“This is the book I picked out for you.”

“Al—” I started, but he put a finger on my lips and shook his head. 

I obediently stopped talking. 

“Now,” he continued, crossing his legs and nudging himself closer towards me, “when I was busy collecting books for the miserable souls living in your hotel, I stumbled upon this amusing piece of literature. It’s from the 2010s, so it’s not that ‘ancient’, as you put it.”

I looked up at him, but since he didn’t meet my eyes, I gazed back down, at the book on my lap. 

“W-what’s it about,” I hoarsely asked.

“Ah – I really can’t tell you too much about it. That would spoil too much of the story. But if you insist, I can tell you _something_.” He smiled. “It’s about a clever girl who was unfortunate enough to have been born in a place where she, and all of her incredible talents, are not recognized. By the time she almost reaches adulthood, almost every other human being in her place would have just – given up already, given in to the despair around them and allow their doomed fate to come and end them. But this girl – she’s _not_ like the others. She’s optimistic, curious and _special_ – and she _knows_ she is.” 

He leaned over me and I felt an arm sliding over my shoulders.

It comforted me so much I actually started to cry on the spot.

“She goes on all kinds of misadventures,” Alastor calmly kept on talking, while taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. “She leads a _comically_ difficult life and she is dragged from one foul situation to the other, but it’s no use – this girl just doesn’t give up. She keeps on fighting and doing the best she can to have the wonderful live she so very much deserves.”

“T-t-that’s nice,” I stammered.

“Isn’t it?” Alastor pulled me closer and carefully dabbed my eyes, holding my chin up a bit. “And you know what the best part is, my love? After all her silly and absurd debacles and travels, she eventually _does_ get her happy ending.”

“S-she does?”

“She does, yes.”

“I – I like that.” I sniffled. “I like that very much. I’ll read it.”

“She ends up in Sweden, after all. And everybody knows Sweden is great. Nice nature and friendly people and such.”

I snorted and almost blubbered snot all over the book. Good thing Al was still cleaning my face with his handkerchief. 

“I-is that so,” I hiccupped, while he wiped my nose. “Do you even have any _proof_ that—”

“I will think about it, Charlie.” 

My face froze up and I looked up at him once more. Now, his eyes _did_ meet mine. He wore a strange expression as he slowly put away his cloth.

“I need time to think about your proposition.”

“Okay,” I said. “Okay, that’s – that’s okay. I mean – yeah. Okay…”

He smiled and tilted my face up some more. 

“You finally sound like your own bumbling self again. I like that particular version of you the most, you know?”

“Yeah?” I smiled as well and sat up a bit, getting my face closer to his. “Maybe – maybe you should show that version of me you like her so much. And by show _her_ , I mean show _me_. And by ‘show’, I mean – look, can you just kiss me already, Al?”

Al chuckled and leaned in, connecting our foreheads with a comfy bump. My heart soared happily as he kissed and held on to me tightly, hugging me to his chest.

He had listened to me. He would think about it.

I felt so much lighter now. 

  
**CcC  
  
**

  
Razzle and Dazzle came barging into the library shortly after Alastor and I had finally started reading. 

I had just finished the first page of Alastor’s recommendation. I already liked the protagonist a lot. She was unfazed by the craziness around her and very down to earth. Alastor was already at chapter three of his giant book and had cheerfully informed me he had never read such a ‘pretentious piece of _sheer garbage_ ’ before.

I was about to shrilly stammer why the hell he’d _again_ bother to read a book he clearly loathed so much – when my aforementioned personal servants entered the library, out of the blue.

They searched the room for a bit – and their faces lit up in delight when they spotted me on the long couch. They _raced_ towards me, smiling broadly, clearly overjoyed to finally see me again after being away from me for such a long time. 

“Razzle? Dazzle?” I said, puzzled, while my bodyguards nearly _pounced_ on me. “So you are back from the palace! How was it, working at mom and dad’s place? Did you make yourself useful?”

Since the cute little goat demons couldn’t speak, they just made wild, grandiose gestures to express their happiness and floated around enthusiastically. I laughed, while Alastor, in the meantime, eyed the two quietly. He _tolerated_ them, he had once told me, but he wasn’t too fond of them. I didn’t really know what Razzle and Dazzle’s feelings towards Alastor were, but right now, they totally ignored him.

As I petted my servants, Al tapped me on the shoulder. “They seem to have something for you.”

“They have?” I said – and, right on que, Dazzle nodded rapidly and pulled a fancy looking letter out of nowhere. Then he and Razzle argued and wrestled a little about who would give said letter to me – and during that time, Al rolled with his eyes and simply snatched the envelope out of Dazzle’s hooves (who was visibly _shocked_ by this). He briefly glanced at it, before handing it over to me. One of his eyebrows was raised quizzically. 

“It’s from your parents, my love – and I believe it’s quite urgent.”

I scratched Razzle behind his ear and studied the beige envelope in wonder, indeed noticing my parents’ names and the big, boldly written words ‘ **IMPORTANT READ NOW** ’ blotted on its surface.

Huh.

What could be so very important?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ when I was like 17 years old. I had seen the movie before I had read the book and for some stupid reason, I believed the book had another, more upbeat ending than the movie.  
> It hadn’t.  
> Anyway, we follow the story through the eyes of a Native-American named Chief, but the story really is all about the rebellious and unpredictable McMurphy, a criminal who ended up in a clinical institute by pretending he’s insane. McMurphy does the very best he can to make his life – and the life of the other patients there – bearable in the psychiatric hospital by coming up with the weirdest schemes and ideas and by constantly rubbing the stern and harsh head nurse Ratched the wrong way. It actually is a rather fun novel to read – until McMurphy one day takes it too far, ends up nearly strangling Ratched and eventually gets lobotomized. When that happens, there’s only one thing left for Chief to do…  
> This book was challenged a lot. It has been called ‘pornographic’, ‘violent’ and even ‘complete garbage’. It’s a very good book though – definitely a must-read!


	47. Sophie's Choice (William Styron)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor and Charlie read the letter Charlie's parents sent her. Alastor makes a few choices... and promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chisena](https://twitter.com/ChisenaArt) made me once again some lovely fanart! Check it out [here!](https://twitter.com/ChisenaArt/status/1246983240751009792) It's got something to do with… walls. Don't question it.  
> Then there's also [this](https://twitter.com/mikkiaru__/status/1246863399562010624) gorgeous and cute piece of work that [Mika](https://twitter.com/mikkiaru__) made. It was partly inspired by chapter 18 (y'know, where they smooch for the first time) - and I just - I can't - it's so _pretty_! I just had to give it a shout-out!^^

Th—

Um.

So, the letter went like this:  
  


_“To our dear daughter, princess Charlotte,_

_We are quite happy to inform you that we were able to reach out to an Angel from Up Above, who was willing to descend to Hell and listen to our plea._  
_After we told this Angel – who goes by the terrific name Hakim – about the situation one of your hotel’s sinners is in, he was rather impressed by everything you have accomplished so far._

_As are we! We may not always say it, but please believe us when we say that everything you have done up to this point and everything you have achieved in the past couple of months, despite of our opinions and despite of the negative response of most residents of Hell, has made us feel very proud to call you our beloved daughter._  
_You are a darling and righteous young woman and we love you dearly._

_Now, please pay attention for the next bit, sweet apple beignet._  
_Hakim wishes to talk to Alastor, to see if he is suitable for Heaven yet. If he isn’t suitable, then he will return to the hotel – nothing ventured, nothing gained. Just like that._  
_However, if Alastor_ does _turn out to be redeemed enough for ascension and_ wants _to leave Hell, he won’t return to you._

_You will naturally never see him again._

_But this is what you want, isn’t it? This is what you have fought for, all this time. We know it probably will be hard for you, to be faced with the possibility of losing your current lover, but we are also convinced you will make the right decision and therefore let Alastor meet up with Hakim._  
_You see, there are plenty more fish in the sea that actually are likeable and not total flaming trash cans._  
_(I’m sorry my sweet, your father REALLY wanted me to write that down as well and you know how weak I am)_  
_But we digress._

_Hakim will be waiting for Alastor in Hyde Park tomorrow morning, ten o’clock sharp. He’ll be sitting on a bench under the stone bridge there. Hakim looks and acts and glows like an Angel – you seriously can’t miss him even if you wanted to. The Heavenly Being stands out like a sore thumb._

_Alastor gets one hour to try and convince Hakim to take him to Heaven._  
_Take note: if Alastor doesn’t show up, Hakim will leave and we don’t know when another possibility will occur to get an Angel to Hell. Other than that, it would be such a waste to let this rare chance pass by, don’t you agree?_  
  
_We hope you know enough for now – oh, and please, do let us know how all of this worked out for Alastor about a few days._

_With love,_

_Your charming Father and Mother.”  
  
_

  
I used my teeth to thoughtlessly pull tiny little bits and pieces off my lower lip as I watched Al read the letter after me, and waited for him to finish all of it.

It was different to make out how he felt. His expression had gotten a lot more flexible and lively ever since we started dating, but he still had this mysterious talent of – shutting out all visible emotions safe for that eternal _grin_ of his. That – that strange, bizarre _grimace_ he wore, like a mask of some sorts. Now as well – the more he read, the less I could tell from his face. I wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing, but it worried me.

My blood had run cold by this point. My hands – they were icy and felt like they barely belonged to me anymore, no matter how much I attempted to rub some warmth into and onto them. It was like a freezing wind was blowing through the library, even though the single window was still shut tightly and Razzle and Dazzle had already left the room.  
  
Oh, I had just – just told them to go and help Niffty out, something like that… I didn’t know what to do with their big, round eyes resting on me when I was reading my parents’ message earlier, so when it became too much for me to bear, I had send them off. They had listened to me, didn’t ask me any questions (well they couldn’t anyway) and left right away. They really were pretty good servants. I should give them a raise…

I gave a startled gasp when Alastor all of a sudden lowered the paper and looked straight at me.

“Well. You certainly weren’t lying when you mentioned you father has some mighty otherworldly connections.”

“Of course not,” I said, still messing around with my hands. “Most of dad’s connections are his brothers – and most of his brothers are–”

“Archangels,” Al nodded.

I kept on tugging at my lip. “Yeah.”

“Have you ever met one of them, Charlie?” 

He put the letter back in the envelope. Maybe it was just me, but – it seemed like his hands had gotten somewhat… unstable. He barely managed to get the neatly written message back in. 

“N-no,” I muttered. “I’ve heard my father’s stories about them, most about Uncle Gabe, Uncle Raph and Uncle Mike – dad really _hates_ Uncle Mike, by the way – and… that’s about it. I’ve never met them – I’ve never even _seen_ them.”

“Oh my. That’s a shame.”

I gave Al an awkward, almost-convincing grin. “Maybe not. Dad always says he was the prettiest one in Heaven and that all of his divine brothers look ‘ugly as shit on a Monday’ anyway.”

Alastor cocked his head to the side, just a little bit. “Why on _Monday?”_

I smiled feebly. “According to dad, everything is worse if it’s on a Monday.”

He snickered at that and straightened his back. “That actually _does_ make quite some sense.”

Seeing him relax somewhat calmed me down as well. “It – it really _does,_ right?”

“I’ll say! People have this strange hatred towards Monday – it’s so silly, really. Meanwhile, they _adore_ Friday! Here’s some food for thought I that read somewhere: did you know that people who are planning to kill themselves seldom actively try to do it on a Friday? Because of the _weekend_ that’s about to begin?”

I shrugged. I looked from the letter in his hands to him. Alastor did the best he could to avoid my gaze and pretend like he didn’t do it on purpose.

“Why it blows my _mind!_ Why would somebody go out of their way to live through their weekend if they have supposedly given up on life like the _weakling_ they are?”

“Al.”

“It’s not like depression or your godawful life is a _job_ and that you get a _break_ from it during the weekends!”

I sighed and shuffled closer to him, taking hold of one of his wrists. “Al.”

“And why not throw yourself in front of a train on a _Sunday?”_ Al’s voice got a strange, raspy tone and he weakly attempted to shake my hand off him. “Let’s be honest here, Charlie, do _you_ know anybody that genuinely _likes_ Sundays? They are even _worse_ than Mondays if you ask me. Why, I—” 

_“Enough,_ Al.” 

Getting tired of his ridiculously _pathetic_ efforts to prevent me from asking him the question we – well, we _both_ dreaded, really, I all of a sudden took a steady hold of his arm and – _**bam**_ – slammed him against the nearest wall, right next to me. While he was recovering from the sheer shock of this even happening, I proceeded to quickly trap him in-between my arms, which I firmly planted against the wall as well, right next to his torso.

It – probably would have been a lot more imposing if I had been bigger than him and could have smacked my arms closer to his face, you know, so I could – could _stare him down_ , but I wasn’t, so – this would have to do. 

“Alastor.” I breathed in and out a lot less composed than I had wanted to – and I let my head hang low, allowing my disheveled hair to fall across my face like an annoying blonde curtain. _“Please.”_

Silence.

Then – he sighed, and when I peeked from underneath my eyelashes, I saw him trying to wrap his arms around me.

“Oh Charlie,” he softly said, upon noticing how much my own, _weak_ arms trembled – but I stubbornly shook my head and shrugged his arms off me.

“No – _listen_ to me, first. You – you _know_ what I’m going to ask you.”

“I know.” His voice had a resigned tone to it.

“I – I know this is – a lot faster than I had anticipated. But I’m _not_ telling you to go and get redeemed. I’m just – just asking you to at least, at _the very least_ … meet up with that Angel. I’m… not sure what mom and dad are up to, but – but if they _really_ managed to get an Angel to come to Hell… you should meet him.”

“Hm-hm.”

“Talk to him. Try to… to understand what he is going to tell you about Heaven.”

I felt he ran a hand through my hair. I should have swatted that hand away, but I didn’t, because it – it felt really nice.

“You can say ‘no’ to him afterwards. Of _course_ you can. And then, you – you can return to m— the hotel and just carry on your everyday life.”

“Right,” he said and once more attempted to put his arms around me.

“No,” I mumbled – but this time, I didn’t put up much of a fight and he easily pulled me into his embrace.

“What if I say ‘yes’ to him?” I heard him ask. 

I shuddered at that and collapsed against him completely, pushing my face into his chest as my arms limply dangled from the sides of my body. Because of that, Al fell back as well, finding support against the wall as he slowly lowered himself on the floor, taking me with him.

“Then you get to find your… your _Paradise,_ I guess,” I managed to croak out.

“My paradise, is it? _Ha._ Well, Charlie, if you would, allow me to tell you something funny, my sweet, darling princess...”

He held on to me so very tightly – it almost felt like the first time we had kissed. The desperation in his grip. The painful delight of being crushed against his body. The exciting sensation of something new and heart-pounding – although I had to admit I didn’t quite feel that last bit right now. I _did_ feel how he brushed my hair away from the side of my face and leaned in closer.

“You never guess what I discovered in that library of yours.”

My hands shot up and gripped his vest, digging my face into him even _harder._ “Books.”

“Well, yes, _books,_ naturally – some lousy library it would have been without books – but – oh would you _please_ look at me already, my love – you’re suffocating yourself like this!” 

He had a little chuckle as he succeeded in pushing me off him far enough to look me in the eyes. I eyed him tiredly, while he simply cupped my face in his hands.

“It was _you,_ my dear.”

I wanted to protest, but he cut me off with a kiss before I could. The kiss grew more passionate than I was initially expecting, making my legs feel like they would have given in instantly if we weren’t huddled together on the ground already, and just when I was about to kiss him back – just when I wanted to close my eyes in silent defeat, he pulled back.

“It was you all along,” he repeated, grinning happily and sounding a little out of breath as his fingertips tenderly moved up and down over my cheeks. _“You_ are my own Angel, Charlie, and I already passed _your_ test, so the only place I consider Heaven is the place where _you_ are – which is right _here,_ in my arms.”

I looked up at his affectionate smile and struggled, holding back my tears with everything I had, but it wasn’t enough, because of _course_ I was going to cry again – I was constantly crying, dammit, and I hated it, I hated it so much, because why would I? Why the hell _would_ I? 

This was a _good_ thing! 

“It _is_ a good thing,” Alastor hummed – apparently I was thinking out loud again. “So I’ll go talk to that Hakim person. Do you hear me, my love? I’ll go talk to him. He can do his little – jig, whatever that might be. And then, afterwards, I’ll come back to you, and I’ll stay with you, and continue helping you and the hotel out. Like I did before.”

“A-Al…” I weakly managed while he tilted my face up again.

“Hmm?” He nuzzled my nose. “What is it, my love?”

I panted a bit as I slowly sneaked my arms around his neck.

“Can I – can I kiss you?”

Alastor’s eyes got big. I almost never asked if _I_ could kiss _him._ Then they softened again and he smiled, nodding. 

“But of course, Charlie.”

I pressed my damaged lips to his again and mewled against his mouth quietly when he moved a hand behind my neck and gave it a gentle tug. It was kind of awkward, especially with that stupid, wet salty taste that I kept on getting in my mouth, but Al’s kisses were deep, and hard, and made everything just a tiny bit more pleasant.

And I really needed that – I really, _really_ needed that right now.  
  


**CcC**  
  


Eventually, after several kisses and soothing words filled with sweet nothings had been exchanged, Alastor got off the floor. He put his hands on his back, stretched himself thoroughly and I made a face when I heard the gross popping sounds of his joints and bones. He then fixed his gaze on me and smiled, offering me his hand.

“Well then,” he said as I accepted his hand and let him help me off the library’s floor. “What’s next, my love? What are we going to do now?”

“I guess – I guess we need to tell the rest of the hotel.” I dusted off my clothes and combed through my hair with my fingers in an attempt to get the knots out. “I’ll – ow – go fetch Vaggie after our break is over and give her an update on things. Then I’ll probably try to gather all of the hotel’s sinners in the main hall – you know, with the little podium you adore so much – and I’ll just inform them about what might happen to you tomorrow. If – that’s okay with you? I mean, do you _mind_ me telling the others about… Hakim?”

Al plucked some dust bunnies off my blazer as well. “Not at all.” 

“Alright. And after that, I guess you can… um…”

“Yes?”

“…you know, take it easy, and spend the rest of the day… with your friends here?”

Al gave me a blank stare. _“Friends,_ you say…”

“Oh come on,” I said, suppressing a groan, “you can… have some quality time with Husk, and Angel Dust, and Niffty, and maybe even Vaggie? Just in case… you know…”

I tugged on my hair helplessly, cast my eyes down and stopped talking.

“Just in case I might not see them again after tomorrow,” Alastor finished my sentence. “That _was_ what you were going to say, weren’t you?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Would that make you happy, my love?”

I laughed humorlessly and shook my head. “Look, Al – I don’t want you to talk to the others because _I_ told you to do so. I just – don’t want you to miss out on that opportunity to… I don’t know. Say something nice to them. Tell them how much they mean for you. That kind of stuff.”

“Charlie – you _do_ realize the chances of me going up to Heaven tomorrow are _laughably_ small, right?” Al looked at me critically. “Let me remind you, once again, that I _don’t_ regret my past life, that I’d do all the horrible things I did when I was alive over again if I had been given that choice and that I, simply put, _just don’t want to leave Hell_. Besides, I believe Heaven is boring – and you are fully aware of just how much I despise boredom. Also, there’s you.”

I blushed and couldn’t help but smile shyly at that. “A-and there’s me, yes...”

“And you are _here.”_

“Yeah.”

“Well there you have it,” Alastor matter-of-factly said. “So I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much for my so-called great ascension tomorrow, because the only one who’s going to ascend is that Angel. Hakim. Such an unusual name for an Angel, don’t you think?”

His off-handed remark was like a bunch of little red flags – and I knew that I had to act fast, before Al and I would leave the library and prepare for the… rest of the day, I suppose.

“You _are_ going to meet up with Hakim, aren’t you?” I insisted.

He rolled with his eyes. “Yes, my dear. Why – you think I’d just go for a stroll around the city and then return to the hotel, all fine and dandy, having _rudely_ ignored that Angel?”

“Well…” I muttered.

“Rest assured, I won’t do that. I told you I was going to meet up with Hakim the Angel, so I will meet up with Hakim the Angel – and listen to whatever he has to tell me.”

“Okay.” I paused for a second. “And also…”

Alastor chuckled. “Yes, _also…?”_

“Don’t harm anybody on your way to him. Not even an animal. Not even a _bug._ I want you to… to behave. Okay?”

“Alright, alright…” He sighed, but seemed more amused by my inquiries than annoyed, in all honesty. “So it’s going to be one _boring_ walk to the park, then. Oh well. I’ll simply find another activity to amuse myself with while I’m on my way. Maybe I’ll drop by at Rosie’s place real quick and ask her about the condition of that torture room she has underneath her emporium.”

I puffed my cheeks in dismay. I knew the jerk only said that to screw around with me, judging on the teasing glint in his eyes – but it did remind me of the most important promise he needed to make with me.

“One last thing, Al…”

“Well thank goodness for that.”

“Don’t kill him.”

An uncanny quietness fell over Alastor. His grin lessened – just a little, but it was noticeable. His posture got more rigid and the muscles in his shoulders tightened. His eyes darkened and he didn’t have a witty comeback to counter my request this time.

“Al?” I hesitated.

Just like that, Al snapped out of it and responded to my worried face with an upbeat chortle. 

“What a _strange_ thing to ask of me. Now why would I go and kill an _Angel?_ Haha! I don’t have a _deathwish,_ my dear – those Heavenly Beings are rumored to be extremely strong and cruel, if the situation calls for it! Surely I must have a _very good reason_ to try and _murder_ one of them in the first place…”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“Please Al.” I looked at him pleadingly. _“Please_ don’t kill the Angel. You know – Hakim. I’m – I’m begging you.”

If the stakes weren’t so high and so very serious right now, it probably was kind of comical to watch the obvious feelings of conflict, anger, uncertainty and affection fight for dominance on Al’s features. He didn’t even _try_ to hide the fact he _indeed_ had been planning to kill the Angel and gripped his face in speechless pondering, his brows furrowed.

It dragged on and on, but I didn’t want to ask him to hurry up. I was already more than happy he actually was reconsidering his former goal – so I stood by him and didn’t lose eye-contact with him for even one second – I knew it would be a lost cause if I didn’t keep looking at him, my hands gripped together firmly, my lips a nervous, yet steadfast line.

“Charlie,” he finally spoke.

“Yes?” I replied right away.

“You drive a hard bargain here.”

“I-I know.”

“You’re not making things easier for me, either.”

“That’s okay.” I didn’t even flinch when he gave me a fixed glare. “I _like_ making things more complicated for you. And I also don’t want to make things too easy for you. You should know that by now.”

For a moment, I feared that was a bit too much – but Al’s red-and-brown eyes actually lit up at that cheeky comment and he finally cracked a smile. A _nice_ one.

“You’re adorable.”

I flushed and lost my cool and collected composure. “W-wha – d-don’t call me _adorable,_ I’m being very _poised_ here!”

“Oh _Charlie,_ for goodness _sake,_ you’re so insufferable _cute_ – you’re going to be the end of me one day.” Al smiled indulgently, leaned towards me and pecked my cheek. “Fine. You win, my love. I’ll spare the Angel – Hakim, or whatever his name is – and I’ll also obediently do all those other orders you told me.”

I started to sputter. “Oh – those weren’t technically _orders,_ those were—”

“However.” Al stood up straight again and his expression grew stern and inflexible. “This is **it,** Charlie. No more promises, concerning that Angel and our arrangement. I’ll meet up with him. I’ll harm nobody on my way to Hyde Park and I won’t kill Hakim. Nothing _more._ I hope you can understand that.”

Ohh he was _pissed,_ I noticed. He was very much annoyed by the fact I had been able to ask this much from him – I bet he was even more angry with himself than with me right now, really. 

“Charlie.” His voice was harsh and curt. “Did I make myself clear?”

I beamed the brightest smile I had in my arsenal at him. “I love you.”

That sudden statement _acutely_ caught him off guard and his cheeks reddened within the blink of an eye. Sheepishly, he rubbed his blushing face before pressing another kiss to my cheek.

“I – um. I love you too. Naturally.”

“Well – well _good.”_ I chuckled and grinned even wider. 

“Right. Well, now that’s over and done with…” Alastor made a nod towards the door and took my hand in his. “Shall we get going now, my love? I believe our time is up.”

I breathed out a slight sigh and squeezed his hand – thankfully, gratefully.

“Yeah. Let’s go, Al.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Sophie’s Choice’ is another book I haven’t read before. I know what’s it about, though!  
> As Stingo, the narrator of the story, is working on his next book in a broading house, he meets the smart Nathan and the quiet Sophie, a couple of lovers. Nathan turns out to have a mental disorder, while Sophie happens to be a Holocaust survivor. Stingo and Sophie warm up to one another and Stingo learns more about the horrible things she had to do in order to survive the concentration camp… but not everything. Only later, much, much later, we find out that Sophie in Auschwitz had to choose which one of her two kids would get send to the gas chambers immediately and which one would get to live (in the camp, but still). This horrible, inhumane choice inevitably leads to Sophie’s downfall – and there’s nothing the helpless Stingo can do about it.  
> This book was censored in the Soviet Union and banned in both South Africa and Communist Poland because of its ‘unflinching portrait of Polish anti-Semitism’. Also, sexual undertones. It’s a recurring theme in most of these books.


	48. Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie makes yet another announcement. Alastor spends some time with Angel Dust and Vaggie.

“…and I guess that’s all you need to know. Um… well, for _now,_ at least. Are there any questions? For me, or – or for Alastor? You can ask them! It’s okay! We don’t bite!”

“Not _hard_ that is,” Alastor grinned – and clicked his tongue when I gave one of his ankles a disgruntled kick. I shot him an annoyed look as well, signaling to him that now was _not_ the time to act like a scary jerk.

The main hall, in which all of the hotel’s sinners had gathered in order to hear about Al’s possible ascension the very next day, was absolutely _packed._ The space was therefore also buzzing with rapidly-spoken murmurs, people exchanging glances and opinions with one another, perplexed expressions and the occasional exclamation of relief. Since… well, Alastor may had helped a number of sinners to get parts of themselves redeemed, but he was still a _huge_ jackass in their eyes. 

Which I understood perfectly, really. No matter how much Al’s looks had changed and no matter how gallant and nice he was towards me (and _some_ others, if he felt like it), he still wasn’t a saint by _far._ It made me write a mental note in the back of my head: I needed to talk to mom and dad about this arrangement they had made with the Angel Hakim. I mean, just _why_ had they told him Al was ready to go to Heaven? Dad nearly got a heart attack when Al started dissing Heaven during the lunch date, so why the heck was he now suddenly acting like Al could easily waltz into Heaven?

I needed to get to the bottom of this – preferably before Al had to go, tomorrow morning – but I didn’t think I had enough time…

“I see a question!” Alastor all of a sudden called out, and I blinked, quickly putting a smile back on my face.

“Yes?” I smiled at a locust demon.

“Yeah,” the guy started, lowering his hand, “so um, if the Radio Demon goes out tomorrow mornin’, there’s a chance he won’t be comin’ back, right?”

“Right,” I nodded.

“So you might be losin’ your creepy-ass boyfriend.”

I flushed, but managed to keep my smile intact. “Not that it’s any of your business, but… that could happen, yes…?”

He brushed two fingers over his surprisingly bushy eyebrows and then wiggled them seductively at me. “Well _princess,_ if you end up alone and need someone to keep you warm at _nig—OW!”_

He was brutally cut off when Al’s microphone stand smacked into his face. Al himself began to laugh like he had never heard such a great joke before, filling the chilly room with his extremely unsettling cackling.

Which all of a sudden stopped as he glared at the locust demon, smiling sadistically.

“Oh ho ho, _Eugene!_ Didn’t anybody tell you? **She can’t warm herself with the cold husk of a filthy insect’s beheaded body, slowly bleeding out in the gutters**.”

“He knows my name,” the green demon gasped in anguish, while Al’s mike automatically returned to its owner with a gentle _poof,_ “why the hell does he know my name? Is it because of the book assignment – is it because I didn’t read all of that book? I swear I didn’t lie when I told you that insane _crap_ you recommended me gave me fuckin’ _hallucinations!”_

Alastor frowned at Eugene and leaned on his stand. “Calling Sade’s magnificent work _crap,_ I see.”

The bug-eyed demon paled and tried to crawl out of sight. “No no no no, _please_ I’m only—”

“Yeah, alright, _enough_ already!” I hastily said, before Al could say (or do) anything else. “If there aren’t any other questions, you, um, can just go do… whatever. So, um, thanks for all of your attention!”

With a nervous grin, I watched the crowd in front of the podium disperse. I could tell the hotel’s patrons were still talking about Alastor – since they kept shooting him these ugly and sometimes even concerned looks, like they actually were worried about him – but they didn’t stay and try to talk to him. They just got out of the main hall and, well, most likely returned to their usual activities, which were… pretty meaningless, actually, and therefore I was happy we’d soon have another activity for them to participate in.

As soon as I was sure nobody was paying attention to me and Al anymore, I let out a shaky sigh and turned to look at Al. 

He smiled back, seemingly not having a care in the world. “Well! I’d say that went rather well, don’t you agree, my dear?”

I rubbed my arm. “They at least have gotten the message.”

“They most certainly did!” He put his microphone stand behind his back and swung it around – before he made the thing disappear in thin air. “They got **all** the messages.”

I observed him being all ominous and evil by himself for a little while. Then I groaned loudly and moved to collect my papers and things. “Oh _please,_ Al. Like I would ever pay someone like Eugene any attention.”

“You won’t need to: I will be back from my dull appointment with that Angel before you know it.” He picked up a piece of paper that had fluttered to the ground and reached it out to me. “You _will_ have somebody to keep you warm tomorrow night.”

I smiled at him and took the paper from his hands.

“And with somebody, I meant _me,”_ he quickly added.

I snorted. “Al, darling, I think it’s pretty clear you meant yourself.”

“Alright then.” He coughed, slightly flustered because of the ‘darling’ –thing, and looked around. “So… I suppose I need to… look up the sinners I actually can stand to be around with and _talk_ to them, yes?”

“Yes. To… you know.”

“I see. I’ll go do just that, then.”

“Okay Al.” 

“I will see you later, my love.” 

He swiftly pressed a kiss on top of my head and walked off the podium.

I just stood there and watched him go, feeling anxious little knots in my stomach forming with every moment he walked further away from me.  
  


  
**DdD  
  
**

  
“Well _hello there_ , Anthony!” 

Alastor suddenly _manifested_ next to me on the couch, and I screamed harder than I intended to since – well it just was so fucking _sudden,_ dammit, the asshole didn’t even give me a chance to pause my goddamn soap opera! And now I had missed Julia’s heartfelt confession to Julio!

 _Fuck_ Julio, by the way, he’s a cocky bastard and Julia deserves _way_ better.

“You damn _dickweed,”_ I snarled at Alastor, as the sinister _humanoid_ made himself comfortable on my couch – yes, _my_ couch, since this was _my_ room with _my_ fluffy porn couch and _my_ crappy television, “what the hell do ya want! I was _watchin’_ somethin’! And _don’t_ call me _Anthony!”_

“I think I have to talk with you,” he cheerfully said, ignoring my angry tone.

I blinked. “Talk to me? Talk to me about what?”

“I don’t know.” He looked at the television as well and crossed his legs. “Charlie said I should spend this afternoon talking to the people I actually do give a damn about.”

“Well why the flying fuck are you sitting here talking to _me,_ then?”

Alastor didn’t respond, except for a very sarcastic side glance. But I _swear_ it only took me like one more minute before I got what he meant to say and I uttered a soft “Oh.”

Not going to lie: I felt a bit touched at that.

“So.” He gestured to the television. “You like this trash?”

And _woosh_ – just like that, _all_ my tender thoughts got chucked _right_ out of the window, just like that.

My jaw dropped. “What the actual _fuck,_ Al! _Trash?_ I’ll have you know that this series has a _very_ strong female lead character and all of the clichés actually are pretty… tolerable, and not chewed out at _all!_ I mean, hell, nobody’s even gotten pregnant yet!”

“If you say so. I never cared all that much for all this… modern technology.”

“Heh. If you call soap opera’s _modern,_ then you better stay clear from all the other shit they nowadays have. Did ya know they’ve invented bendable phones? _Bendable phones_ , man!” I wildly swooshed my hands around, which sadly enough wasn’t all that impressive anymore lately. “Next thing you know, you’ll have phones that you can stick up your ass and write a text message to yer lover with while gettin’ deep-throated by some other stud from down the lane! At the _same_ time!”

“Your obscene imagination both revolts and worries me – and that’s coming from _me,”_ Alastor smiled, without looking away from the television screen. “You, my friend, truly are one sleazy creature.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah – _whatever.”_

“However, thank you.” Alastor paused for a moment, allowing me to stare at him in total shock. This was like the _second_ time he had earnestly thanked me. In the background, I could hear Julio laughing maniacally as he dug a grave for his half-brother’s stepsister’s best friend’s fiancé. 

“Wh-what are you thanking me for?” I wanted to know.

“Well, as much as I loathe to admit it, it was thanks to _your_ casual encouragements that I eventually decided to consummate my relationship with Charlie,” he informed me. “My – that Julio person is _despicable.”_

“O-oh. Really?” I stammered. “And yea – Julio is the worst, ugh, fucking asshole, I want him dead.”

“I can see why.”

“So wait, if I… _hadn’t_ told you to just go for it and get some nice princess booty – you’d still be… _pure as the driven snow_ …”

I had thought Alastor would react at least a teeny tiny bit appalled to that sultry remark, but he actually cracked up in laughter. “Haha, my _lord!_ It’s amazing how you manage to make every single word sound so thoroughly _disgusting!”_

“I know, I know, it’s a rare talent and I should charge people for it.” I grinned, puffing up my chest proudly and finally – since he really didn’t seem to be up to something evil or petty – settled down a bit.

For at least 15 minutes, we watched the drama between Julia and Julio unfold in front of our eyes without doing much else. I still was very much aware of Alastor’s entire eerie being, but, you know – once you get immersed into a very cool soap, you forget about those kinds of things. You even start casually doing some small talk, because… 

Well I _don’t know_ , it just _happens,_ okay?

“So, how’s the sex-life treatin’ ya?” I heard myself blurting out all of a sudden, as I squinted my eyes at Julio, smooth-talking the hell out of Julia once again. “I know you guys do it on the fly – Charlie’s bedroom isn’t _that_ far from mine, y’know.”

“…on the fly?” Alastor repeated, his voice dangerously low.

“Well – y’know – pretty regularly, I mean?” I shrugged, trying to hide the fact my brain went full ‘ _crap crap crap_ ’ –mode for a moment there. “Got to use those tasty tentacles of yours somehow, am I right? Do you even still _have_ them?”

“Yes.” 

Alastor still sounded _none_ too pleased – and there were those _crazy voodoo symbols again OH FUCK_ – so I quickly came to the point.

“U-uh, w-what I’m trying to say is… you’re getting used to sex! Right?”

That helped: his creepy aura lessened. A little. 

“Perhaps, but that would be mainly because of Charlie. Not because of the act of sexual intercourse in and on itself.” Al’s attention got caught by the events on the television screen once again. “Goodness. Doesn’t Julia find it at least a _bit_ suspicious that her neighbor has been missing for three weeks already – and that Julio was the last one to see him alive?”

“Heh, Julia’s cool, but she’s also kind of a dumbass,” I nodded. “Also, what the hell – so if you weren’t doing it with Charlie, you wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“If I wasn’t ‘doing it’ with Charlie, as you so poetically put it, I wouldn’t do it at _all.”_

My mouth twitched at that. “Well aren’t you a fuckin’ _romantic._ In my case – if I would do it with pretty much _every_ sucker, as long as they’d pay me good money for it. I can’t help it. I just love having sex way too much.”

The Radio Demon chuckled. “Suit yourself.”

We watched some more Julio shenanigans. At one point, Julio pushed Julia’s overprotective grandfather off the staircase while Julia was playing piano _right next to it_. She happily sang some sort of Spanish lullaby as her grandpa’s twitching body rolled off the steps – and when that happened, Alastor and I snorted at the same time.

“Oh that’s _atrocious.”_

“Okay – I admit that was kinda bad.”

“I daresay she’ll only discover her dead grandfather if she _trips_ over him.”

“Maybe she’ll think he’s just sleeping.”

“Sleeping on the _floor,_ with mangled up body parts and an open head wound?”

“Eh, grandpa Jorge has always been kind of a weirdo.”

Julia’s high-pitched screams as she found out about her murdered grandfather (at last) made the both of us look at the television again. Since the rest of the program pretty much only showed how a couple of dimwitted policemen searched the house while Julio sipped tea by the window in a hilariously _diabolical_ way, I tried to find some words to say.

When the drama was over – at least for today – Alastor glanced at the clock on my wall and got up.

“Well! This actually turned out to be more amusing than I had thought. I never knew you actually were more than just a gross abomination of a spider and a tramp: you’re a gross abomination of a spider and a tramp with an exceptional bad taste in picture shows, too!”

I let out an annoyed “ugh.” 

“You also have a rather well-developed sense of humor.” Alastor fixed his clothes and paid no attention to my once again stupefied (was that a _compliment?)_ face. “I should go and chat to some other acceptable sinners now.” 

“Wait,” I said, quickly getting up from the couch as well. “so… yer really going to meet up with that Angel guy, huh?”

“So it seems.” Alastor sounded very uncaring. I wondered if it was an act.

I scratched an itchy spot on the back of my head. “Ya think you’ll really… ascend to Heaven?”

“I think there are more chances of you turning into a Saint than me going to Heaven.”

I snickered. “Kinky.”

“Is it?”

“No – um, never mind,” I said, as I knew my wonderfully pervy jokes would be totally lost on him, “anyways – yea, maybe I’ll get no other chance to tell you this, and maybe if you hadn’t come to me first I wouldn’t have told you this at all, but… uh, well…”

Alastor, who already was at the door now, looked at me. In all honesty, he probably _still_ thought of me as nothing more but a stupid perverted spider demon (I could tell, really). But he at the very least politely waited for me to finish my sentence.

“Look – _thank you_ , okay,” I managed to get out, folding my arms together and looking away. “You – it was thanks to _you_ that I got myself redeemed, even if it was just a bit. And it’s also thanks to you that I kinda like books now. Good ones, that is. And I – should also thank you for makin’ me feel safe here. You know Valentino and how he’s out to get me once I set one foot outta the hotel, right? You, or at least your presence, makes me believe I’m safe here.”

He slowly turned towards me some more. “I had no idea.”

Figures. I sighed, irritated. “Well _now_ you do.”

Alastor paused for a couple of seconds. I could tell he was at a loss for words. 

“That’s all.” I faintly waved my hand at him and flopped down into my porn couch again. “You can go now – see if I care.”

“Alright,” he said, at last. “Goodbye, Angel Dust.”

I pursed my lips as he left and squeezed a pillow in-between my arms, resting my face on top of it.

Finally addressing me by my name _now,_ huh? 

Fucking jackass.  
  


**VvV  
  
**

  
“What the hell do _you_ want,” I greeted Alastor right away, without even doing as much as looking up from my laptop as the Radio Demon opened the door to my and Charlie’s office.

He laughed. “Well! And a very nice afternoon to you as well, my dear!”

I grumbled and gave him a weary look as he closed the door and briskly walked towards the desk across the room. “If you’re looking for Charlie – she isn’t here. She had to go do something. It’s just me here, now.” 

“Good!” he grinned and sat down at Charlie’s desk. “Because I’m not here for her – I’m here for _you!”_

“…for me.”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“To grace you with my delightful personality.”

I just stared at him, leaning my face on a hand. I didn’t even cock an eyebrow at that – it would be too much effort.

“I kid,” he clarified when the uncomfortable silence lasted a bit too long.

 _“I’d_ say,” I grunted. “Don’t you have _better_ things to do than to troll around like the stupid buffoon you are, Alastor? Like – oh, well, like trying to _undo_ your reformed body parts and instead do everything you can to stay _here,_ with Charlie?” 

Alastor looked around Charlie’s desk endearingly and smiled down at a cute little cactus plant with a bow neatly tied around its pot. 

“My dear, I don’t know how I got so many parts of myself redeemed, nor do I know how to undo it.”

“You could just… go out and kill some stupid assholes!” I nagged, slamming my laptop shut. “Rip off some punk’s head! Try and overthrow the King of Hell! _Anything_ you did before you started locking yourself up in Charlie’s damn library!”

“No can do.” Alastor gave me a weak smile and put his hands together. “I promised Charlie I’d meet up with the Angel. I also promised her I wouldn’t hurt anybody on my way to this arrangement and I even promised her I wouldn’t kill him.”

“You _wha-?_ You’re a fucking _moron!”_ I snarled at him. “Why did you promise all that!”

“I have my reasons.” His smile faltered. “She’s cried so much the past few days.”

I wanted to throw my stapler at his _annoying, forlorn_ face – but I reminded myself that I, too, would have probably done and promised anything to Charlie to make her stop crying. 

So I forced myself to calm down – and to put the stapler down, too. 

“You’re… you’re not on you way to Hakim _yet,_ so you could still—”

“Vaggie, as much as I want to agree with you – because I, too, believe I should do whatever I can to lessen my chances of getting into Heaven – I _can’t._ Trying to find loopholes in the promises I made will eventually only end up hurting Charlie, don’t you think so?”

I hissed and furrowed my brows. My hands now gripped the edge of my desk tightly and I hesitated for a moment, before coming clean.

“I wanted to set the library on fire, you know.”

Alastor didn’t respond to that, but I could tell he listened.

“That fucking library is what caused all this. If you had never found that forsaken place – if Charlie and you never started bonding in there, maybe – maybe things would have stayed the same. Nothing would have had to change. I don’t mind not being with Charlie anymore, but I hate to see her suffer. She’s been a wreck these past couple of days – no, ever since you, me, Angel Dust and all those others _started changing_ – she’s been a mess. Next thing you know, you’re on your way to Heaven and I'll have to deal with a heart-broken Charlie that bottles up all of her pain until she can’t take it anymore.”

“And you thought _setting the library on fire_ would help?” Alastor remarked, one of his eyebrows raised up arrogantly. 

_“Yeah_ it would help!” I gritted my teeth at him. “Because as long as there are sinners trying to read those books you forced upon them, you’ll keep on changing! Until, _apparently,_ Hell has no other choice but to call in an Angel from Above and get you to Heaven – what _exactly_ is what is happening right _now,_ in case you forgot!”

“Ah. So _that’s_ your reasoning.” Alastor hummed. “I suppose it kind of makes sense. You had wanted to set the room ablaze shortly after you, Niffty and Angel Dust woke up with your new features, I assume?”

“No, I wanted to destroy that damn room after finding out _you_ got some Heaven points as well – or whatever you want to name that weird thing that happens when you get more humane.” I sighed and rubbed my – good – eye. “I could have still stopped it back then. If I had started a fire in the library as soon as Charlie had finished her speech back then, nobody would have found out in a long time. You were gone, Charlie was – m-mad at me, but she was mad at me in another room, and all of the other sinners weren’t around either.”

“Sounds like you threw away a perfect opportunity to burn the place down,” Alastor agreed. “And yet, you didn’t do it in the end. Why didn’t you?” 

“As if I could burn the room down in which you two fell in love, dammit. She’d never forgive me if she’d ever find out – and I’m a sap for places that hold a special meaning to people.” I sighed, poking my own desk plant. “And, as much as I hate to admit it – you are good to her. You _care_ for her. Not even my warning about her huge sex-drive stopped you from being with her.” 

“I kept that in mind, though. And I found a solution for that.”

“…you did?”

“Yes. I never stop her.”

 _“That’s_ your way of dealing with her need for sex? You just _go with it_?”

“Hm-hm.”

“Don’t you get… fed up with that, though?”

Alastor let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, how can I explain – it’s mostly like you need to go to a party you initially don’t really want to go to. Because you’re tired, and you don’t want to get dirty and you just finished making the bed and those scratches on your back still haven’t fully healed yet from the last time.”

“That’s indeed just like going to a party.”

“Let me finish.” Alastor grinned though, appreciating my cynical comment. “Where was I – ah, yes! A party you’d rather skip. Still, you know that if you go, you’ll end up _liking_ the party a lot, because you absolutely love and adore the hostess. You want to make her happy. You want her to enjoy that party. And you know you’ll love it as much as she does, as long as she gets to… celebrate.”

I thought I understood what he said and nodded a bit. “So you go to the party.”

“You go to the party,” he said, nodding as well. “And you make the _best_ party out of it.”

“That’s a way of handling it, I guess.”

“Well I wouldn’t have been able to know how to handle it if _you_ hadn’t warned me about it, first,” Alastor admitted, getting up from the chair and taking a few steps into my direction. “Both me and Charlie would probably have been _very_ stressed out at this point, hadn’t your words prepared me for what I was about to get into – and so, I thank you for that.”

I spread my one remaining eye open wide in shock when Alastor got to where I was, took my hand and pressed a kiss on the back of it.

“I thank you from the bottom from my heart – for whatever that is worth.”

My face lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree and I snatched my hand out of his _ghoulish_ grasp, pulling it to my chest like he had bit it or something.

“D-don’t be fucking _gross!_ You can’t charm _me!”_

He laughed at my outrageous reaction and mockingly patted me on the head. 

“All in due time.”

“No!”

“Why I’ll sweep you off your feet sooner than you can burn down Charlie’s entire library.”

“I _won’t_ burn down her library!”

“Point proven – I rest my case.” Alastor continued _assaulting_ my scalp for a little while – until I started swinging my just-sharpened pencils at him. “I believe I should go have some small talk with other likeable people now, but this was a nice intermezzo, my dear!”

“Wait – this was _small talk_?” I exclaimed. “And – and you _like_ me?”

Alastor got back to the office’s door and swung it open, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Did I ever tell you I _didn’t_ like you, my dear? Your rebellious attitude and sassy words are positively _fascinating_ to me!”

“Oh shut up,” I growled, trying to fix the mess he made of my hair. 

He grinned – then turned around to walk out of the door.

“Oh – one more thing, Vaggie.”

 _“What,”_ I spat – but toned it down some more when I realized he was trying to be serious. “I-I mean… what, Alastor?”

“Do look after Charlie for a little while tomorrow. Thank you.”

He didn’t even wait for me to say something to that, he just walked out of the office and closed the door behind him. 

Although I ended up not doing it, I sure are fuck wanted to _sprint_ after him, _yank_ him by his tacky vest and yell into that dipshit face of his that I _always_ look after Charlie, even _without_ his fucking permission, and _what the hell_ , ‘look after Charlie for me’ – what the _fuck,_ Alastor, as if you’re not coming back tomorrow!

But you _are!_

You _will!_

Won’t you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I happen to have finished ‘Fahrenheit 451' just three weeks ago! The edition that I got was old and a bit nasty (grimy, yellow pages, _ughhh_ ), but the story sure was… um, _foreboding_.  
> Guy Montag is a (quite literal) fireman in a dystopian world in which books are forbidden and being burned, because they are seen as sources of ‘confusing and depressing thoughts that only complicate people’s lives’. People should just embrace the new media and simply forget about books altogether. Nobody’s got the attention span for _books_ , after all… So Montag burns books as a living, but starts having second thoughts about it when he gets to know the strange girl Clarisse – and when he (accidentally?) steals a book from an elderly woman, shortly before she sets herself on fire. When he eventually decides to give the books he tenaciously starts collecting a try, things are getting more and more dangerous for him…  
> Why would people ban a book about the burning/banning of books, you might ask? Well – because of its vulgar language, of course! Also: bible burning. Always a controversial thing to do - they even still thought so in 2006(!).


	49. The Jungle (Upton Sinclair)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor spends some time with Husk and Niffty.

Man I missed my tail.

Never would’ve thought I’d say that – I’d always thought my demonic cat-form was downright ridiculous, dammit, I didn’t even particularly _like_ cats – but it was the harsh truth. Like people with warts and – I dunno – scales on their bodies could get attached to their defiled skin, I had gotten attached to my fuckin’ tail. Not only because it was like an extra arm for me, oh no, no no no, _also_ because…

I tended to just… _fall over_ nowadays?

Like my balance was all – _gone._ It had happened to me more than once ever since my tail got snatched from me: I’d walk around, carrying crates of beer, or kicking Angel’s sassy tiny ass out of both my working and personal space, or just minding my own damn business, and then – _plop._ I’d fuckin’ _fall over_! In the middle of the fuckin’ thing I was doing! I just dropped and went full horizontal! 

Never _ever_ go full horizontal. 

Should’ve seen the look on Angel’s face when it happened the first time. Perverted bastard spider-slut laughed so hard I thought he’d pop a fuckin’ _vein._

I found myself wondering if it had been worth it – reading the damn book Alastor had demanded me to read. I didn’t wanna read it when his stupid fascination with making the entire hotel read had just begun. Not because I wasn’t interested, but just to fuck with him. He wasn’t the boss of me anymore, dammit. 

But after seeing some sinners got parts of them redeemed after they’d showed interest in finishing a book, I was like ‘dammit maybe I ought to try it as well’ and so I had eventually, when nobody was talking about it anymore, started reading the book Alastor had recommended to me. 

To my great dismay, I found myself _liking_ the damn thing and kept reading the story, even after my tail had been taken away. I mean – just look at me _now,_ dammit, I was still _reading_ the fucking doorstopper. It had over 450 pages – _450 pages!_ – and yet I was still reading it, while hanging around at my own bar. There wasn’t much to do anyway: the sinners weren’t allowed to visit the bar on workdays, so they were off doing… whatever it was they were doing on a normal day, really, and I was bored out of my skull. 

So yeah – might as well continue reading. 

I glanced from the book on the bar to the refrigerator, a few feet away, and wondered whether or not I should go take a drink, just because I could (and because Charlie was too occupied with hotel shit to stop by and yell at me for drinking during work)…

…but of course, right at _that_ moment, when I was _already_ heaving my bored butt off the barstool, almost as if on _cue_ – the hotel’s _biggest_ fuckface had to strut into the room like he fuckin’ _owned_ the place, wearing that insufferable grin of his. 

“Hello Husker!” he _loudly_ exclaimed, twirling his microphone stand around like a goddamn drum marionette (but without the cute skirt or the cute _anything,_ really, because Alastor wasn’t cute, he was a fuckin' _nightmare),_ and sat his bony ass down on one of the barstools next to me. Of course, he sat _way_ too close to me, as he _always_ did, dammit, and I had to groan in response to his intense staring.

And lemme tell you that it felt pretty _damn_ distressing, to have two spread-wide-open, mismatched eyes glued to you like you’re some sort of monstrosity! Fucking asshole – always trying to rile me up, dammit!

 _“Alright,”_ I finally said, shutting the book with a snap and giving the damn bastard next to me a glare, “that’s it – can’t even read your depressing book in peace anymore. _Fine._ I’ll bite. What the fuck _is_ it, Alastor? The _hell_ do you want, huh?”

“Were you at the gathering this morning?” he asked me, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah…?” I stared at his oddly human body and couldn’t help making a repulsed face. 

You’d think I had gotten used to it by now, but I didn’t mingle with Alastor all that much anymore ever since we’d started working in the hotel. That’s why the sight of his uncanny _normal,_ healthy-looking skin color gave me some fucked-up goose bumps. 

Lately, Alastor had been way too busy with – I dunno – worshipping the Princess of Hell, I guess, to try and get me involved in his schemes. Meanwhile, I still was just a lazy, unsociable jerk that preferably spend his evenings _alone_ (well okay, maybe not _completely_ alone, I still enjoyed the nice company of a good bottle of bourbon). 

Which that was _fine_ by me, for your information. I didn’t _need_ to get involved in Alastor’s stupid plans anymore. Yeah – fuck ‘em all and fuck Alastor in particular.

But now – _here_ he was again, all of a sudden. And I could tell from the way he looked at me that there was something bothering him.

I sighed and propped an elbow on top of my bar, turning my stool to face him decently. 

“Look, Al – if you’re panicking about possibly getting redeemed – _don’t_ be. You’re _not_ getting redeemed, not in a _million_ years, and I can’t _believe_ Charlie would fuckin’ think you’re ready to ascend to Heaven. No way. No way in fuckin’ _Hell,_ Alastor. Tell you what – the day you’ll get invited to step inside the Pearly Gates of Heaven, I’m quitting drinking booze altogether and from that day on, I’ll only chug down water! Loads and loads of tasteless, dumb water! How’s _that!_ There’s just no fuckin’ _way_ a damn messed-up train wreck like _you_ would be the _first one_ to redeem himself out of _all_ of the sinners here. You’re like the biggest piece of _shit_ of ‘em all, no matter how _lovey-dovey_ you act around the Princess!”

Alastor batted his eyes, pleasantly surprised. 

“What a _nice_ thing of you to say!” 

I grumbled.

He grinned broadly, from ear to ear. “Trying to comfort me, aren’t you, my friend? Are you perhaps even _worried_ about me? _Ha!_ Have you gone soft in your old age?”

I grumbled once more – and then got off my stool (nonchalantly of course – not too hastily) to get me a drink, damn it all. 

“No. Fuck you. You want some?” I rambled as I (carefully – I was _not_ gonna fall over this time) made my way to the cold storage. “Something _strong,_ maybe? Like a _fist_ to the nose? I still have some – some fuckin’ _mercury_ lying around here… maybe shove _that_ down your fuckin’ trap… that ought to shut you up, dammit.”

As usual, Alastor ignored my mumbled insults and just breezily continued his yapping. “I’m _touched_ by your kind heart, Husker, I am! However, you’re mistaken, my good fellow – I’m not worried about going to Heaven. Not at all.”

I pulled a simple bottle of whiskey out of the cooler and made sure to get a good grip on the bar as I walked back. “Well _good._ ‘Cause you _aren’t._ And I _can’t_ handle a sad Charlie.”

Alastor’s confident smile finally began to show some cracks.

“Neither can I.”

“You have a partner now. A nice, sweet, _caring_ one at that, one that’s happy to _be with you_. Seriously – I’m not sure _what’s_ wrong with her, but she thinks the world of you and you can’t just _leave_ her.”

“There’s _nothing_ wrong with Charlie.” Alastor looked down to his hands, studying the stump fingers. “That’s it. She’s – simply a good person.”

“She sure as _fuck_ is!”

Alastor hummed. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Don’t be like me.” I sat down heavily on my stool and took a swirl of my liquor. “Don’t… leave your girl behind because you’re a loser that thinks she’s better off without you. It’ll only end up in tears. Or, in my case, more alcohol, more gambling and a more certain, unceremonious, lonely death, somewhere in a sad back alley. Like a forgotten, drowned cat.”

Oh. _Now_ I kinda understood my demonic form’s motives.

“Did Victoria get into Heaven?” Alastor wanted to know.

Victoria. 

I felt a pang of pain in my chest upon hearing that bittersweet name after all these years – and I hunched over my dark bottle, gripping it with my damned clawed paws as hard as I could. My shy, fragile, willful Vicky. 

“Of fuckin’ _course_ she got into Heaven, you _dickhead._ You think I had stuck around with the likes of _you,_ had I known she was here in Hell somewhere? If she had been tossed into Hell and I could have found her, I’d have ditched your ass _so hard_ it would've broken into pieces!”

“As in... more than two, I assume?”

I shot him a exhilarated look as he burst into laughing over his own lame joke.

“Why are you here talking to me anyway, Al? Trouble in paradise? Hurt your sweetheart, like the fuckin’ _douche_ you are?”

“Oh no – nothing like that!” The Radio Demon stopped laughing and wiped the tears from his eyes – are you shitting me, he found his own joke _that_ good?!

“Then _what_ – and _why?_ You should spend this day with your precious Princess – _not_ with a washed-up jerkass that has lost his tail, dammit.”

Alastor opened his wise-cracking yap and seemed to be ready to say something irritating yet again – he even raised a hand, probably to emphasize whatever he was going to say, and I inwardly already began to gripe about it …

…but the words never came out. Alastor even shut his mouth again.

The room filled itself with silence.

 _Dead_ silence. 

It threw me off a little.

“Not even white noise anymore, huh?”

Alastor gave me a detached smile as a response and I frowned.

“You see,” Alastor slowly began, “I, too, simply wanted to spend this day with Charlie. I love the darling girl. I love everything about her. But – only today, I learned that she isn’t the only person I don’t want to leave behind.”

I snorted. “Pull the other one.”

Once again, Alastor pretended I hadn’t said anything. “Charlie requested I’d spend this day with the people I actually don’t mind being around with. In case I don’t come back tomorrow. She reasoned that I at least should take this opportunity to talk and tell the people that I consider my friends the things I feel I _need_ to tell them.”

“So I guess you spend a good portion of the day talking to your own reflection then.” I cynically remarked. “Day well spent.”

He chuckled at that. “I’ve talked to both Angel Dust and Vaggie already – you were the next one on my – admittedly short – list. After you, I’ll look up Niffty and that’s it. I’ll return to Charlie after I’ve spoken to Niffty.”

“Back to Charlie, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna fuck her again tonight aren’t you.”

“My _lord._ Why is everybody so _focused_ on my physical relationship with Charlie? Is it – the noise? Is she really _that_ vocal? I didn’t know.”

“Oh _you fuckin’ did know_ , Al. As if you’ve got better things to focus on when a pretty girl’s moaning for more right underneath you.” I rolled my eyes. “Seriously: are you gonna do her tonight or not?”

From the irritable glint in his eyes I could tell he _really_ didn’t like the vulgar way I talked about sex, but he gave me a (condescending) smile anyway. 

“If she wants me to. So yes.”

“That’s what I thought – looks I’m gonna sleep in another hotel tonight, not gonna listen to your _loud_ mating ritual again.” I took another sip. “But it’s a good thing you want to do that for her. Be good to her.”

“Naturally.”

“Also, thanks.”

“Hm?”

“You know.” I gazed at the bulky bottle in my hand, like I had never seen such a fascinating object before in my entire life. “For considering me your friend.”

“Husker – I have _always_ considered you my friend.”

I gave him a skeptical side-eye.

“As much as I’m able to see sinners like you as _friends_ and not usable _tools,_ that is,” he admitted.

“Better,” I nodded, contented.

“But it’s not just _you.”_ Alastor fidgeted with his mike – another thing that nowadays mostly was _just_ that, _just_ a mike, and _not_ a living abnormality anymore. “Angel Dust told me he was grateful I had made him appreciate books and helped him redeem a part of him. He even said he felt _safe_ here, as long as I’m around.”

“Huh! How about that,” I said, genuinely astonished .

“And Vaggie told me she knew I was good for Charlie. She even gave me some helpful advice a while back, when I didn’t know I would need it.”

“What kind of advice?”

“Advice on… throwing parties.”

“Advice on _throwing parties_?”

“Yes.”

“Well I guess that’s one way to describe plowing the Princess into the mattress.”

“Oh _shut up_.”

For the first time in what seemed like, uh, _ages,_ I felt something strange rumbling in my belly – it crawled up and up and before I knew it, I broke down laughing, only roaring _harder_ when I noticed Alastor’s slightly disgruntled expression. I even dared to smack him on the back, nearly shoving him to the ground.

“Oh man – you’re such a fuckin’ _prude_ – look at you, all cranky like some sour-puss, haha! Don’t forget to _smile,_ Al! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!”

The longer Alastor looked at me cracking up, the more his brows eased up, until he, too, was laughing. A little, but still. 

It was nice. _This_ was nice.

I kind of hated it.

I still had giggles bubbling up when I noticed Alastor got off the barstool and patently waited for me to calm down. I thought I was going to let him wait a _looooong_ time for that, since the last time I had laughed this much because of something he did or had said was _never,_ but the slight disturbance in his smile kind of helped the laughter come to a halt.

“What - you’re leaving already?” I said, rubbing the palms of my paws in my eyes. “That’s just like you: you just said your thing and now you’re fed up with me already, so you just up and leave.”

He shook his head. “I understand where you’re coming from, but this time, you’re wrong, my old friend. You see, it’s getting a bit late, and I still need to pay attention to our hotel’s littlest darling Niffty. I’m planning to take her out for a quick bite outside of the hotel.”

“You’re treating her to _dinner?”_ I raised my very giant, majestic eyebrows at that. “Wow. That’s… actually very nice of you. Do you owe her some money or what?”

 _“Ha!_ Well. I don’t want to crush your hopes and dreams there, Husker, but as far as I know, you’re still the _only_ poor sap around this place who owes _somebody_ money.” He _violently_ cracked the joints of his fingers – just so he could see me cringe in response. “Also, believe it or not, but I just want to do something _nice_ for Niffty. She’s been a great help for Charlie and me and I can always count on her when I need her. And yet, do I ever even try to get to know her? No, I _don’t,_ because I’m—”

“A huge, self-centered jackass.” I grinned at him.

“It takes one to know one.” Alastor flashed a wicked smile right back at me. “So I’m taking her out for dinner, nothing special.”

“Okay,” I said. 

“You, ah… got anything left to say to me before I leave?”

I just shook my head and concentrated my eyes back on the bottle, smiling faintly. No way I was going to admit I had kind of liked our weird little conversation there.

“Well I do.” 

Alastor suddenly bent towards me – _again, way too fuckin’ close, dammit_ – and pulled on one of my ears. 

“I might need you later.”

I growled and pushed him out of my comfort zone, shielding my ears from him. “What for, dammit?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Alastor got this unusual glint in his eyes as he backed off. “But can I count on you, Husker? Can I hit you up later?”

I glanced at him, thinking. A unsetting amount of unexpected relief washed over me – and the feeling was hastily blamed on the booze sloshing in my stomach as I sniffed dismissively.

“Well I still owe you _money,_ don’t I.”

Both me and Alastor knew what that answer meant. 

He left soon after that, and I went back to reading my book, a slight smile still plastered firmly onto my face.   
  
  


**NnN  
  
  
**

Oh you just wouldn’t believe my surprise when Alastor suddenly appeared in front of me in the garden and told me to go put on some nice dress or ‘whatever it was cute little beans wore these days’ because

He was going to take me out for dinner!

And I was like “But Al!!! What about Charlie?”

And he was like “Hahahahaha what _about_ Charlie?”

And then I was like “You can’t just suddenly elope with me Al think about the neighbors they’ll _talk.”_

And he just looked at me like “what” and then he said that maybe just maybe he didn’t harbor any weird romantic feelings for me at all and maybe just maybe he simply wanted to take me out for dinner because he wanted to do something nice for me for a change and was that alright with me?

“Oh yes I’d totally do you,” I responded.

He gave me this half-stunned, half-annoyed look. 

“Right then. I don’t recall asking you _that,_ but that’s lovely. Just lovely.”

“I’d rather have other people do you though like Angel Dust or Husk or maybe” I started vibrating at this wholesome moment, “maybe – maybe _BOTH_ Angel Dust _AND_ Husk _AND THEN ALSO_ Vaggie—”

“You’re dragging _Vaggie_ into this, too?” Alastor stared at me, absolutely blown away. “How – how does that even _work?”_

I licked my lips excitedly. “Ohhhhhhhhh well I could tell you about—”

“Rhetorical question Niffty – it was a _very_ rhetorical question, _please_ don’t tell me about how that works.”

His loss really!

And then he told me once again to go chance myself into something classy already and so I gave him my rake and skedaddled like lighting right back into the hotel and I put on some very nice light green colored dress I had gotten from Charlie a while back. It was really really nice and adorable and the last time I wore that dress everybody kept telling me I looked like a cute little lime, which was lame but at least it was cute as well and I could really go for cute now I was in like a very cute mood!

So I put on my dress and rushed back outside where Al had _actually halfheartedly began to rake with the rake_! But he dropped the tool instantly when I came dashing out of the hotel like the thing was a flaming hot cupcake and he was like “well are you ready my dear?”

And I said yes!

And off we went!   
  


  
**NnN  
  
**

  
Alastor had wanted to take me to some fancy place where they served grossly overpriced weird things like uhm deer and goose and elephant and moose and what-not but I was like 

NO.

Because I wanted to go to the local diner!

NO YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND the bat demon that worked there was a total hunk! And his name was Stanislovas or Stan for friends and lovers and everybody and their grandma’s know that guys named Stanislovas or Stan for friends and lovers make like the most chill and sweet boyfriends _ever._

Also he had some rad abs going on underneath that greasy apron. _Yowza._

So!! 

Now was my chance to make Stan jealous by barging into the place while hanging on Al’s arm like a _dame_ and then he’d be sorry for not knowing my name or who I was at all!

“Have you ever even spoken with the man,” Alastor wanted to know when I pulled him into the rackety joint.

“Soulmates don’t _need_ social interaction when they can have _mental_ interaction,” I hurriedly explained Al as I pushed him down on a couch and sat across from him. “I connect my brainwaves with his brainwaves every night you see so even if he doesn’t know – _I_ know.”

While Al continued to stare at me like I was the most traumatizing piece of fanfiction since _My Immortal_ was brought into this world, Stan came over to ask us what we wanted for dinner.

“YOU,” I shrieked – and yelped a cry of pain when Al laughed, gave me a swift _kick_ underneath the table and randomly ordered something for the both of us.

“Niffty, you’re a charming girl, you _are,”_ Alastor explained to me after Mr. Abs had slowly made his way back to the other side of the diner, “but if _this_ is your way of showing you got your - big, giant eye on him, I believe you’re doing something wrong.”

“How would _you_ know,” I huffed, tenderly stroking my hurt knee. “You tried to win Charlie over by scaring the crap out of her, scratching her _face_ and repeatedly keeping her hand hostage for _hours!”_

“…Well it _worked,_ didn’t it?”

“No thanks to _you!”_

He chuckled and put his elbows on the table. “Ah, that reminds me: that’s _also_ a reason why I invited you to take a bite with me.” 

“What reason?”

“I wanted to thank you. You – were the first one to find out about me and Charlie.” His smile grew kinder (it was very weird let me tell you). “You sort of caught us red-handed that one afternoon. Remember? You wore those hideous yellow… earplugs of some sort?”

“Ohhh that time when Charlie pounced on you and you cried like a little boy,” I nodded. “Yea I remember.”

“…you knew?”

“Yea I knew.” I looked behind Al for a moment, to check if bat boy was coming back already but nope, no luck. “Your face was wet.”

“Ah.”

“You wanted to thank me for knowing you cried like a little boy?”

Al shook his head vigorously. “No – _no._ Certainly not. I… think wanted to thank you for keeping your mouth shut about me and Charlie to the rest of the hotel.”

“I didn’t though.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.”

There was this weird little muscle near his crazy red eye that started to twitch. “You _told_ people?”

“More or less, yea – but whatever, Al,” I said, shrugging. “It came as a surprise to like _nobody_ and you and Charlie weren’t really doing a great job at keeping it silent either.”

“Then—”

“And I didn’t keep the library a secret either it just took some sinners a very very _very_ long time to walk up to me and ask where you and Charlie sneaked off to every afternoon.”

At that, Alastor simply shut up and forgot to blink for like a minute or so.

I observed it worriedly, wondered if I had told him too much too readily and too breezily and nervously pulled some paper napkins out of their holders to tear them apart, just so that I could have something to clean up later haha. 

“You – you regret taking me out now?” I asked quietly, as our plates with hamburgers were served in front of us.

Alastor finally started moving his eyelids again, noticed my anxious expression and shot me a grin.

“Well! That’s what I get for not giving you more of the attention you so very much deserve, I suppose. It’s alright, you _sly_ little lady, you. The only thing I regret is not having asked you out for dinner _sooner.”_

I blushed at that and grinned as well. “Oh you _flatterer_!”

He rested his chin on his hands and peeked at something over my head. Then he nodded at the hamburger in front of me. 

“Your unworthy object of affection is watching us, dear – _do_ try to eat with whatever dignity you have left in that spastic little body of yours.”

“IS HE LOOKING oh god oh god oh god,” I wheezed and somehow managed to _mash_ the entire hamburger into my cakehole like a total dweeb. I looked over my shoulder right afterwards, plucking the pickles of my cheeks.

“Did – did you even _hear_ me,” I heard Alastor comment behind me but TOO LATE I WAS OOGLING STAN NOW OH MY GOD TOTAL BRAINFART.

Upon seeing my despairing face, Stan, who was drinking something _very sexily_ , sprayed everything in his mouth all over the floor and had to retreat into the kitchen, but it didn’t really work out since Al and I could still hear his insane laughter all the way from our seats.

I turned around again and sat down, swallowing the last bits of burger. Then I snatched more paper napkins from the table and rubbed them over my face.

Alastor cocked an eyebrow, but waited.

“He laughed,” I announced.

“Yes he did, sweetie.”

“That means he thinks I’m funny right??”

“I think it might even mean the two of you are practically engaged now.”

“YES.”I did a fist pump into the air. “SUCK ON THAT DAD WHO’S UNMARRIAGEABLE NOW!” 

Alastor laughed. “Better find a way to secretly leave your name and address for him here!”

“Yes!” I said again – then doodled all of my personal information on a neat new napkin, put a kiss underneath it and sprinted to the space where the counter and the kitchen was and _smacked_ it down on the surface.

“I LOVE YOU STAN CALL ME!”

Then I went back to Al, who was doing his best to keep himself from laughing out loud for some reason.

“I did it!”

“You’re _amazing,”_ he said, panting a bit, “I’m so _glad_ I took you out tonight!”

“Y-yea?” I stammered being all shy and stuff.

“Absolutely! This was a _very_ entertaining little trip.” He got up from the dingy couch and put on his coat and also took my hand even though he had to bend so very deep for that I could hear his old man’s back crack. “Now – time to take our leave, my dear, before we catch some sort of disgusting disease in this awful, meaty valley of tears!”

I had wanted to point out to him that we hadn't paid yet and that he hadn’t even touched his hamburger but then Al kissed the back of my hand and my brain kind of fried and I just let him pick me up and escort me out of the diner.

Wow!

Today turned out be be _great_!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘The Jungle’ is probably one of the oldest books I have on my list. It was published in 1906 by an American journalist with a very quirky first name (Upton? _Really_?) and it goes like this…  
> Jurgis Rudkus is but a simple, Lithuanian immigrant that desperately tries to survive in the harsh world he and his struggling family are living in. They pretty much all work at a slaughterhouse, trying to make ends meet – but the circumstances in the meatpacking plant are so godawful _terrible_ that every single member of the family starts to slowly decay, both mentally and physically. It’s not before too long Jurgis’ dad dies thanks to the unsafe work-conditions and the youngest family member succumbs to food poisoning. Things only get worse for poor Jurgis: he discovers his young wife sold her body to Jurgis’ boss in order to prevent him from firing her, _then_ said young wife _dies_ while giving birth to their second child, and _then_ their first child _drowns_ in a puddle of mud. After all that, Jurgis becomes addicted to alcohol and I bet you expect me to say this story has a bad ending, but in the end, it _almost_ has an optimistic conclusion. Almost.  
> This novel was yet another victim of the Nazi bonfires. The book was burned because of Sinclair’s socialistic/communistic views.


	50. The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor spends some time with Charlie. And then he leaves.

“Did you talk to Angel Dust, A-Al?”

Charlie, pinned down against the wall in the entrance hall, breathed in and out in quick, soft puffs of air. Her lips were moist and glistering from the bordering on desperate kisses I had rained down on them, as soon as Niffty and I had returned from that _horrid_ diner. Her hands, firmly pressed against the hard surface behind her by my own, were dangling somewhat – and I felt a careful caress of her fingers, gently touching the back of my own rigid hands.

She smiled at me, her eyes lightening up the entire room as I relaxed my grip around her wrists and nuzzled her cheek.

“I have,” I somehow managed to say.

“Good – very… very good, Al.”

I wanted to say something to that – but Charlie moved her face and her soft lips captured mine again. She exhaled through her nose and closed her eyes, making a pleased little noise when I kissed her mouth, over and over again, until it opened itself for me and allowed our tongues to meet. 

My hands trembled at that and I, too, closed my eyes. 

_Finally._

For the past eight hours, I hadn’t spoken to her and oh I had _missed_ her. I had missed her _so much_. 

Today, after I had interacted with _all_ of the sinners that I, more or less, could see as something akin to what most people would call ‘friends’, the painful realization of Charlie’s absence had struck me like a lightning bolt. The unnerving knowledge that I ached so much for her presence – just her mere _presence,_ mind you, nothing more – made me feel anxious and incredible _annoyed_ with myself. 

Please don’t tell me I’m like _this_ because I haven’t spoken to Charlie in a while, I had nagged at myself time and time again, in-between conversations with the hotel’s sinners. That would be just _ridiculous._ Please. We were in a committed _relationship_ now, I didn’t have to win her over anymore – I _had_ her. Her body, her mind, her heart – I had _all_ of it already. 

I shouldn’t _need_ to feel like I was starved for her affection after _just a few mere hours._

Yet I was.

I _was,_ and as soon as I had entered the entrance hall of the hotel and spotted Charlie there, talking to one of the tenants with many silly, nervous hand movements, the sudden and insane _hunger_ to talk to her – touch her – feel her warm body against mine again nearly overwhelmed me. 

So I ignored the many sinners lazing about, I didn’t pay attention to Niffty’s cheerful goodbye as she wrung herself out of my loosened grasp and I didn’t mind that I accidentally hurt my leg in my hurry to slam Charlie against the wall behind her – I simply _had_ to.

But Charlie didn’t mind my wordless assault on her, she even seemed to understand. She worriedly asked me if my leg was okay after knocking it against that steel closet and then she asked if she should take a look at it and then she didn’t ask anything at all for a while, since I pressed my lips against hers and allowed this bizarre sense of delight and relieve wash over me. 

Eventually, I let go of Charlie’s wrists and collected her soft, round face in my hands, sharing one final kiss with her before pulling back, wheezing harshly as I looked down at her reddened face.

“So – so how was your day, hmm?”

Charlie, who was panting at first, chuckled breathlessly at that and wound her arms around my waist. 

“It… it was alright! I did… a lot of work, you know, paperwork, administration… hotel managing things… ”

I enjoyed hearing her upbeat, happy voice and hummed contently. “Well I’m delighted to hear that, my love.” 

“I’m finished with all that now, though.” After a squeeze to my waist, Charlie raised her hands and took mine from her blushing face. “And I – I suppose you’re finished as well, aren’t you, Al?”

“I am, yes,” I nodded.

Charlie smiled some more and straightened her back, moving her mouth very close to mine yet again, without connecting her lips to me.

“Then I can have you to myself now. Come.”

I let my hand get clasped by hers and followed her up the stairs, reveling at the sheer, brutal _disinterest_ Charlie showed in letting the rest of the hotel know she was going to have sexual intercourse with me like this. 

I didn’t know it was even possible to fall even _deeper_ into this exciting pit called love, but I suppose it was a bottomless one – because oh I was still falling, I was falling down so _helplessly,_ and I cherished every single second of it.  
  


  
**AaA  
  
**

  
“Did you talk to Vaggie as well?”

I looked up from unbuttoning Charlie’s shirt. Although the bedroom was dark, with the exception of the blueish rays of Hell's full moon outside illuminating Charlie’s alluring features, I could see a teasing little grin resting on her bruised lips. The skin of her white neck was covered with dark marks as well and her eyes were half-lidded with lust.

“Yes…?” I said.

She seemed pleased. “O-okay… nice.”

With a slight frown, I pulled the shirt off of her, moved her a bit away from the surprisingly bare and basic bedroom wall and sneaked a hand behind her back, trying to get a good grip on her bra’s strap. How on earth did those things work, anyway?

“Now this might surprise you, my dear, but I’d actually rather _not_ talk about your ex-lover as I’m about to ravish you against this wall.”

That made her laugh. “That _does_ surprise me – oh come here Al, you fidgeting moron.”

Charlie put her hands behind her back and undid her bra within the blink of an eye. Then she shimmied out of her pants and panties as well, watching me watching her do just that. It struck me once more that Charlie was _very_ comfortable with her own body and with me, looking at that very same body. She _knew_ she was pretty – she _knew_ she was a sight to behold. 

She also knew I was a bit – pardon the pun – _stiffer_ when it was about getting naked and didn’t rush me as I undressed myself. This was – kind of a new situation for me, after all, since it wasn’t in-between the safe comfort of her bedsheets. But Charlie simply waited, a patient smile tugging on the corners of her lips as I fumbled around with all of my layers of clothes. 

When I found myself completely… exposed, Charlie wrapped her arms around me and pulled me flush against her, making me press her against the wall in response. Her hands fluttered up and down my back in gentle, playful touches and when I took her chin and tilted it upwards, she stood on the tips of her toes to secure a hot kiss on my lips. The excitement of this new position, her encouraging touches, her loving kisses, her low moans and her spread legs, trying to wind themselves around my hips, were enough for me to grow hard and fully erect – and for that, I was thankful.

“Y-you need to lift me up a bit,” she groaned as she continued to fail to get a good hold of my hips, “your cute, pointy butt is too flat – I – I can’t hold on if you don’t help me out.”

“Did you – did you call my behind _pointy_ and _flat?”_

“I called it cute as well!”

“Oh you’re going to find it _cute_ alright.”

Charlie’s laughter changed into heavy breathing when I forced her body up the wall, pushed her legs apart some more and positioned myself right at the entrance of her throbbing womanhood. She let out a shaky, harsh gasp as I entered her with a sharp _snap_ of my hips and her legs feverishly rounded themselves around me to find some support. Her nails dug into my shoulders as I began to rock into her, elicting more beautiful sounds and forbidden noises from her wet, kiss-riddled mouth.

This was – well – it was a _lot_ more difficult than I had expected, to be completely honest – it cost me a lot of energy to not only keep moving and keep myself inside of Charlie’s velvety sweetness, but it also took quite some effort to try and stay in balance as well. I almost dropped Charlie at least two, three times, when my grip around her faltered and I started to get – fairly _tired._

“A-Al,” I heard Charlie pant above me, and her hands patted my shoulders hurriedly, “l-lower me somewhat – that I can – _ah_ – put my upper back against the wall – also keep on _breathing,_ Al, y- you’re not _breathing!”_

She _smacked_ her hands against my face and when I finally started to breathe again _and_ slowly drag her down the wall, until she was hanging from my waist, at the same eye level as me, she smiled approvingly.

“H-hi, Al.”

“He – hello, dear,” I answered, hugging her lower body against mine. This was indeed a bit better – I could even look at her wonderfully aroused face.

Charlie let out a breathless laugh and tightened her legs around me. “I’m – I’m close, Al – I’m very close… so please… _please…”_

I nodded, took a rough grip around the base of her lower back and relentlessly began to pound myself into her, repeatedly slapping her body against the wall. Charlie cried out in shock – and I kept drawing more of those delicious yelps, whimpers and gasps out of her, more and more, until she was nothing more but a squirming, shivering, beautiful mess in my arms.

Then, and only _then,_ I came, too.  
  


  
**AaA  
  
**

  
“Did you talk with Husk, too?”

Charlie, sitting in the bathtub with her back turned towards me, looked over her shoulders and eyed me questioningly. She looked rather charming, with her now-rozy body both framed as well as covered with foam and bubbles. Instead of responding, I pressed a sudden kiss on her scathed, raw-looking back. 

Charlie winced. “O-ow…”

Seeing her squeeze her eyes shut like that made me wince as well. Well then – maybe I should touch her less carelessly. Her back _did_ look like it hurt a lot, after all. 

I wrapped my arms around her psysique a bit better and pulled her closer, propping my chin up her blonde head. That way, her back was resting in the warm water – and indeed, I heard Charlie utter a soft, appreciative sigh. 

“Of course I talked to Husker,” I muttered into her hair. 

Charlie’s head bobbed about, since she nodded. “Alright…” 

We both didn’t say anything for a little while after that little bit. I simply held her in my arms and enjoyed her company, while Charlie let me and relaxed some more as well.

After the deed had been done – and after _somehow_ getting ourselves out of the downright _ludicrous_ position we had been in against that wall – Charlie had coaxed me into taking a bath with her. Naturally, the absurd idea of sharing a bath with somebody else initially repulsed me to my very _core_ – but since this was _Charlie_ we were talking about, it didn’t take her that long to convince me to try it out with her anyway. 

It didn’t take her long to convince me to try out anything, lately.

However, I still found it very strange. It was frustratingly inconvenient to wash and clean yourself when there was somebody _else_ sitting in the bathtub as well. Sitting in-between your still-quivering _legs,_ even – I flinched on the spot when Charlie sat herself down like that. Feeling my uneasiness, Charlie was friendly enough to help me out and put my arms around her herself, calmly telling me to take my time.

So I did – and I discovered sharing a bath with the lovely Princess wasn’t too bad after all.

“Did you like it?” Charlie piped up, stirring me up a bit. “The wall-sex, I mean?”

“I could ask you the same question, in all honesty.” I dared to run a nonchalant finger over her back – and had to grin when I felt her shiver.

“I liked it,” Charlie still decisively said.

“Your back is in tatters, though.”

“My back will heal.”

“You’re surprisingly _experimental.”_

“Because you let me.” Charlie peeked over to me once more. “You – don’t mind it.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I admitted. 

“Thank you. I… I like that.” 

Charlie turned her head towards me some more and touched my face ever so lightly, managing to steal a kiss from me that way. It was a bit too awkward for me though and I made her shift her entire body towards me, exhaling a very contented breath of air as she instantly threw her arms around me and made the water around us swirl restlessly.  
  


  
**AaA  
  
**

  
“What about Niffty?”

Even though I couldn’t see her, I felt Charlie took hold of the front of my nightwear with a single, hesitant hand, almost as if she was afraid to ask me this question. Naturally, I automatically pried her hand from my clothes and slid my fingers in-between the openings of her own hand. 

“Yes, my dear, I talked to Niffty as well.”

Charlie sighed softly. “That’s good to know.”

The sensation of her smaller, slender hand gripping mine tightly made me squeeze hers back.

“That was it, in case you keep on asking about more sinners. I talked to Angel Dust, Vaggie, Husker and Niffty. Those people are the only ones I deem somewhat important to me, for whatever reason.”

“I didn’t hear my name…”

“Oh Charlie – of _course_ not, you silly girl.” I pulled her towards me, until I felt the plush press of her breasts against my chest, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “You are in a league of your own, my darling Princess.”

Charlie didn’t reply – not with words, anyway. Her hands ended up on my back, where she snugged the back of my pajamas fixedly. There was a slight tremor in her hands. Seconds later, I could also feel a wet sensation trickling on my upper body.

“Dammit, not _again,”_ she blubbered. “I’m – I’m sorry, Al – I didn’t want to—”

I smiled, closed my eyes and fondly stroke the back of her head and neck.

“It’s going to be alright, my love.”

“You can’t be sure about that.”

“Oh but I _am_ sure about that.”

“I just – I don’t _know_ anymore.” Charlie sighed tiredly. “I – I don’t know what tomorrow will bring… and I’m so _scared_ to find out.”

My eyes snapped open again and stared at the ceiling above us – well, I simply stared into the deep darkness, but _surely_ there was a ceiling above us. In the meantime, I kept on caressing Charlie’s sobbing figure, thinking about the next day. About the Angel. About the promises I made to my darling lover.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing, Charlie.” I grinned widely, grasped her a bit firmer and ignored the startled little ‘ow’ that Charlie uttered. “Mark my words.”

“What do you mean,” she stammered, as alert as she still was, that attentive little sweetheart – but I could hear the sleepy tone to her voice. So I simply mumbled a noncommittal hum, cuddled her and waited until I felt her fatigued body grow limp in my arms.  


**CcC  
  
**

“Okay, Al – just to make sure – have you spoken to _everybody_ you wanted to speak? Like, are you really, _really_ sure about that?”

As I fixed his coat and picked off the dust and random blonde hairs, I sternly examined Al’s face, grinning as usual, affectionately looking down on me. I happened to notice a fading, dark hickey somewhere in his neck and I felt the blood in my head boil, nervously adjusting his collar as well. N-nobody had to see _that,_ let alone the atrocious state my back was in…

 _“Yes,_ Charlie dear. I told you last night.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Husk, who – together with Vaggie, Angel Dust and Niffty – had come in the entrance hall as well, turned to Angel, gesturing towards me and Al. “I was out last night to get away from the – _cat_ noises. Were there a lot of those last night?”

“Eh.” Angel Dust shrugged and swirled a pinky finger in his – ear, I guess. “Maybe I heard some mewling and some mild banging on the walls. Nothing too special, _way_ too cutesy to my taste.”

 _“Angel,_ oh my _god,”_ I hissed at him urgently, but he didn’t stop.

“What? It _really_ wasn’t all that impressive, blondie. No offence, but I’ve heard a lot more screaming coming from those _other_ two patrons that live right above me. Vags _,_ I swear to fuckin’ _Satan_ they were going at it _so hard_ their room must be looking like a fuckin’ _war zone_ by now.”

Vaggie, who _visually_ radiated she had rather wanted to be anywhere else – just _anywhere_ else than right here – rolled her lone eye at him like the spider demon had just told her the world’s stupidest joke. 

“Wow, Angel. How interesting. Look at me not giving a single _shit.”_

“What – what floor do they sleep at?” Niffty tugged on Angel’s weird skirt thing. “I need to know. You know. For _reference.”_

“Hey – stop it, you’re stretching the damn fabric, ya little _creep!”_

Alastor observed Angel Dust and Niffty’s halfhearted bickering. He then looked from them, to Vaggie, to Husk, and back to me, his eyes big and confused. I simply smiled encouragingly at him in response. How nice – now he could see that there actually _were_ people that cared enough about him to see him off. I wondered what he had to say about that. 

“My dear, is there a reason why the hotel’s collection of greatest _failures_ have gathered themselves here?”

Oh for _Pete’s sake_ , Al!

Surprisingly enough, Husk and Angel Dust just snickered at that nasty comment – and Niffty simply blinked obliviously with her single huge eye, as if she had seen burning water.

“Fuck you too, Al,” Husk said.

“Yea – _yer_ here as well, aren’t ya, smiles?” Angel added.

Vaggie, however… 

_“What,”_ she spat venomously, baring her teeth. “That’s it – this is the _last_ fucking time I try to act nice towards that jerkass douchebag. I’ve tried, Charlie! You saw I tried! Fuck this stupid shit – I’m _out!”_

She stomped off into the other direction – it looked pretty comical to be honest, she even lifted her legs like she was marching through thick mud or something. 

I tried to call after her. “V-Vaggie—”

“Don’t forget our promise now, miss Moth,” Alastor cut me off as he, too, called after Vaggie. 

I glanced at Al at that, but he ignored my eyes.

“I _won’t,”_ came the angry response. 

“Are you falling for me already?” 

“PISS OFF YOU RED _FUCK!”_

With a furious growl, Vaggie disappeared into the kitchen and _slammed_ the door so hard a portrait of mom and dad came falling down.

While Husk and Angel whistled and winced, Alastor chuckled gleefully, pulling me closer with a casual pull. I wanted to ask him what _that_ was all about, but he smothered every word that was about to come out of me with playful kisses to my mouth.

“My darling sweetheart – you made them – come out – to see me off?”

I forgot what I had wanted to say and – when I was finally able to – shook my head, pushing him back just a bit.

“N-no, Al – I didn’t tell them anything! They came here of their own accord – I didn’t even know they remembered what time you were leaving!”

“Oh?” He looked at the – now smaller – group in front of us again. “Is that so?”

Angel moved a hand behind his head, scratching the back of it. “Well, ya know – it’s not like I had anything better to do anyway, really, so… yea. Here I am.”

“Same,” Husk hurriedly said.

“I’ll miss you,” Niffty chirped.

Everybody got kind of quiet after Niffty’s sweet words. Angel and Husk suddenly found the floor to be lot more interesting than me or Al, and Niffty, who eventually realized what reaction her good-bye had caused, anxiously took out a little duster and randomly started dusting off a full amour in the hall, that dad had once given me.

Alastor clearly didn’t know what to say or how to reply in this situation, so he awkwardly played around with his microphone stand. The air grew heavier and since I was at a loss for words as well, I kept my mouth shut, too. 

“Thank you.” Alastor eventually said, breaking the silence. “That is – very kind of you. Of _all_ of you, in fact. Surely this dramatic farewell is absolutely _ridiculous,_ because we all know I’ll be back at the hotel before you know it, but – I _appreciate_ this. Probably more than I’m capable of saying or showing.”

“Anytime!” Niffty happily cheered, after managing to tear her gaze from the cleanable object in front of her for a few moments, while Husk and Angel Dust both mumbled an acknowledging hum.

“I better – go check if the bar’s still there now,” Husk muttered, without looking up. “See you later, Princess – Al.”

“Yea, catch you around, pimp.” 

At least Angel was still able to shoot Alastor a perverted wink before he followed a wobbly Husk out of the entrance hall.

Soon after the two of them had left, Niffty got so caught up in her cleaning frenzy that she didn’t even pay attention to me and Al walking through the front door, leaving her in the big hall all by herself. 

I didn’t think she really minded, though.  
  


**CcC  
  
**

“Well, then I guess it’s time for me to go already, Charlie! I’m already bored _beyond_ words, but I’ll try to make it snappy with the Angel.” 

Alastor smiled at me and gently rubbed his thumbs over my cheeks. I saw his lips shook a bit when he felt my tears sliding over his hand.

“Charlie – oh, please don’t cry, my love. Didn’t I tell you things will turn out alright?”

I gave him a swift nod and laughed weakly when he now started to rub my cheeks. His adorable fascination with my cheeks _did_ help, though – apart from those few tears, no more water leaked out of my eyes as he held my face in his hands.

“Are – are you sure I don’t need to come along?”

“Oh _absolutely.”_ He put some of my hair behind my ear. “It’s going to be an utterly _disappointing_ conversation anyway, for _both_ sides even, and I need my lovely Princess to stay here and wait for me in the library. Then I have something to look forward to.”

“O-okay…”

“I’ll do my best to, at the very least, return around the time you are on your break. I can’t _wait_ to continue reading that downright _horrible_ book you’ve forced upon me. Each and every page is a world of _hurt,_ I tell you.”

I snorted and wanted to nag at him he should just stop reading the damn book already if he was hating on it so much – _just put the thing away already_ and find something new to read – I mean I sure as hell wasn’t going to read a work of fiction I so very obviously loathed—

But before I was actually able to say anything about it at all, Al came close to me, still cradling my face in his hands. He lowered his head and brushed his forehead against mine.

“Can I kiss you, my love?”

I swear I said “yes”, but what actually came out of my unsteady lips was an incomprehensible mash-up of words, vocals and sobs.

Alastor interpreted them right, however, and gave me a soft kiss, his fingertips grasping my face quite firmly as he did so.

The kiss ended – too soon, way too soon – but Al kept holding on to my face for a little while longer as he pulled back.

“Goodbye, my darling Charlie.”

“B-bye,” I blubbered.

“I love you.” 

“Oh _god.”_ My vision got foggy once more when his hands let go of me. “Y-yeah – I – yes – me too – you…”

He chuckled one last time – and then he was gone.  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
As I stood there in front of the hotel, bawling and hating feeling his warm touch _rapidly_ leaving my skin, I couldn’t even see him walking away. My _stupid_ – _awful_ – _damn_ tears ruined it for me, so I was unable to actually decently wave at him one more time or anything.

But he’d return soon enough, I told myself.

Yeah. He’d come back within a few hours, he had told me so himself. 

He’d return, for _sure,_ and then I could… could _finally_ give up on redeeming him. Yes. I had decided to allow myself _that_ much. If this weird arrangement didn’t work out and Al returned – I would just let him be with me.

He’d return. He would.

I kept telling myself that.

Even when he didn’t return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chbosky, the writer of ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’, was working on another book when he randomly wrote down the sentence: “I guess that’s just one of the perks of being a wallflower” – and then he felt the need to find the ‘kid’ that was hidden in those words. Ten weeks later, “Perks’ was finished – and after a few years and drafts, it got published as well.  
> Charlie (no joke) is the 15-year-old narrator and protagonist of the book. The book consists of letters he writes to an invisible ‘dear friend’. For Charlie, writing the letters is a way of dealing with the suicide of his best friend and the death of his favorite aunt. Gradually, as you – the reader – read Charlie’s letters, you get to know the ‘friends’ he hangs around with and find out what the true, unsettling nature was between Charlie and his aunt. It’s a book about Charlie’s many inner demons and struggles, but good news: Charlie comes to terms with his past and the ending of the book is therefore a happy one.  
> This book was a pretty important one for the YA-book scene – and naturally, it also got banned a _lot_. The book was filled with sexual themes and dark topics like drug abuse, homosexuality and suicide, after all…


	51. Invisible Man (Ralph Ellison)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie tries to find some answers to the many questions she has. Vaggie suggests she, Charlie and Niffty should have a Girls' Night In.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wonderfully talented [Halo](https://twitter.com/haloangel212) drew a beautiful scene from chapter 50! 8DDD You can see it for yourself [here](https://twitter.com/haloangel212/status/1252055943380037633)!

…or _did_ he return, now?

A few hours later, while I was sitting in the library by myself and feeling like fifty kinds of miserable, my attention was suddenly drawn towards the chamber’s big, beautiful window. I could see a bright, almost blinding light on the other side, piercing through the multicolored glass of the window – and I nearly fell on my nose when I jumped up from the chaise longue to hurry myself over to where the light came from.

I anxiously fidgeted around with the window’s rusty opening mechanic – but eventually, I got it open. 

My eyes had to get used to the insane and brightness outside before I could see Alastor, hanging in the air front of the window.

“Hello, my love.” 

_He_ was the one omitting the light. He had a small halo above his head and even a pair of wings that were so white and gorgeous they practically glowed as well. Both of his eyes had lost their demonic touch now, I saw. Also – somewhere further up in the air, I could tell there was somebody else, obviously waiting for Al. I had confused it for Hell’s sun at first, but as far as I knew, our sun didn’t have wings.

“A-Al,” I stammered, narrowing my eyes to avoid straining them too much by looking at him. “you – you _did_ it! You’re actually going to up to Heaven! That’s – that’s just—”

“That’s just pure and utter _fiction,_ Charlie,” he impatiently told me, “and we both know that.”

I frowned at him. “I – I don’t understand? You’re _redeemed_ now, aren’t you? You’re… floating and everything!”

“If you only like to believe what your eyes are telling you, you should probably take a look behind you.” Alastor made a nodding movement to something in the library – and when I actually looked behind me, I could see – _myself,_ lying on the couch, sound asleep. 

I stared at myself for a couple of seconds. I let the image of my own sleeping form really sink into my brain – and then I looked back to Al.

“I’m… dreaming again, aren’t I?” I sighed.

 _“Naturally_ you’re dreaming, my dear.” He smiled and pointed to himself. “Only in _your_ sweet, slightly naive dreams, you could transform the likes of me into some sort of angelic form. Just look at me, Charlie – it’s downright _impossible_ how _noble_ and _rehabilitated_ I seem to be!”

“Yeah,” I nodded, glancing at the giant, majestic, feathery wings attached to his back, “it is a bit too much, perhaps…”

“I’m _not_ on my way to Heaven right now, Charlie.”

I tore my eyes off his wings. “W-what?”

He snickered, amused at my bewilderment. “As I am nothing more but a mere figment of your own imagination, I’m telling you what you already know, my darling. You _knew_ I didn’t stand a ghost of a chance to get into Heaven the way I am now. Don’t tell me you actually _expected_ me to ascend!” 

“Uhm – I knew chances of you getting into Paradise would be very slim, but… but – you didn’t return to the hotel, so…” 

“So you just assumed I passed the Angel’s test anyway?” Al’s dream version shook his head dismissively. “If that’s so, you’re disappointingly _gullible,_ my dear.”

“Well what _else_ was I supposed to believe?” I heard myself snap at him. “Either you fail the examination and return to the hotel, or you pass it and go to Heaven! You _didn’t_ return and I don’t think you’re not returning to this place because you all of a sudden _hate_ it, so… yeah, I admit I just reasoned this meant you went up to Heaven!”

Dream Al calmly folded his arms in mid-air and put his legs over one another as well. “You still have your doubts, though. I can tell.”

“Yes! Of _course!_ I mean – you threatened that one sinner just _yesterday!_ And you meant it – you _would_ kill him if he’d made a pass at me and you found out!”

He grinned. “Even as a simple imaginary manifestation of Alastor, I can confirm that that indeed would have happened.” 

“And you really, _really_ don’t want to go to Heaven!”

 _“There_ you go!” Alastor put his hands together, giving me a small applause. “Now, if you put all of those facts together: the fact that I’m an insufferable sinner, that I don’t want to go to Heaven whatsoever and the eerie fact that I, in spite of all that, _still_ haven’t returned to the hotel, what’s the most logical conclusion you can draw?” 

My heart dropped. “Something happened. Something happened to you.”

“Astounding!” Al laughed out loud now. 

I ignored his cackling and looked over my shoulder, to my sleeping figure. I knew that once I was asleep, I could snore for hours, really – especially when I had been sleeping poorly a few days prior or when I had been stressed out about something. I needed to wake up as soon as possible, though – I needed to get a move on and try to find out what was going on and why Al hadn’t returned to the hotel yet.

Because the haughty dream version of Al was right: he simply _couldn’t_ have been redeemed.

After a few fleeting moments of wondering what to do, I started climbing out of the window. Angel Alastor observed me doing so in amusement.

“My my. What are you going to do _now,_ sweetheart?”

I swallowed as I gripped the sides of the window, looking down. “I always wake up when I dream I’m falling from a great height. So I’m – I’m going to jump.”

“Oh goodness, how delightfully _drastic!_ You know how much I like that direct _brashness_ of yours.”

I shot Dream Al a determined look. “Don’t you worry, Al. I promise you I’ll get to the bottom of this and I’ll – I’ll get you back _home!”_

His high-and-mighty demeanor mellowed down a bit and he smiled – a kind, small smile, one of those smiles that he barely ever showed around anybody else than me. 

“Good luck with that, my sweet Princess.”

After that, I simply closed my eyes and let myself fall out of the window.  
  


  
**CcC**   
  


  
I woke up with a startle, panting a little as I sluggishly sat upright and took in my surroundings. I remembered something and automatically turned to look over to the library’s window, but nothing about it showed signs of somebody having tampered with it. I therefore decided that it all indeed had been nothing but a dream – but at least this time, I had been able to tell it was a dream. 

Before getting up from the couch, I felt a weight resting on my lap. I tilted my head downwards to check – and yes, resting upon my lap were both the books Al and I had been reading up till this day. His _huge_ work of fiction carrying my smaller one. Gently, my hands touched both of the novels, before I put them aside, on the seating of the chaise longue. 

When my break time had come around earlier today, I had retreated myself into the library, as Al had told me to do. I had anxiously tried to read a little as I waited for him to enter the library – but I had gotten sadder and more tired as time ticked on, without any signs of Al appearing all of a sudden. At one point, I supposedly got weary enough to actually cry myself to sleep… and then I had that weird dream.

I was _done_ crying _now,_ however.

I needed to _do something_ already. Take action!

With a huff, I left the couch and briskly walked straight out of the library – and I almost bulldozed over Angel Dust in the process, who was loitering around in front of the door.

 _“Whoa_ toots – watch where the fuck yer going, would ya!” he snarled at me, jumping to the side at the last minute.

I firstly just wanted to ignore him – but then I recalled that Angel had been hanging around this hallway an hour ago as well, when I had been on my way to the library. Back then, I felt too disheartened to pay him any attention and it wasn’t like Angel had said anything noteworthy to me either, but now, things were different. 

I stopped on the spot, turned around and marched back to Angel Dust. He was angrily tapping his finger on the screen of his phone – but he let out a small yelp when I suddenly was in front of him again, glaring at him.

“What are you even doing here?” I asked him.

He flinched, but tried to brush it off almost immediately. “Wha’cha mean, ‘ _what are you doing here_ ’? Can’t a guy just visit the library when he feels like it, dammit, or do I need to ask for yer royal permission, first?”

“You’re _not_ visiting the library.” I accusingly poked a finger into his – oh wow, so very _soft_ – puffy chest. “Otherwise you’d gone inside of it already. You’re just… pacing around here. Almost as if you’re… on the lookout for something.”

“On the lookout? For _what,_ officer Charlie – for your stuffy _library?”_ Angel Dusk laughed, _way_ too hard and way too fake. He exposed his sharp teeth as he did so – golden tooth and all. 

“Yes,” I simply said. “You’re guarding the library.”

 _“No_ I’m not,” Angel hastily fired back – but the way his voice cracked right there told me enough. 

“Why?” I therefore asked him.

For a moment, I feared Angel Dust would clamp up and refuse to tell me anything. That would be very inconvenient: Angel could keep secrets like a pro, if he found them worthy enough. However, this time, either my eyes were too piercing for him or he just didn’t think the secret was all that important, because after a few more nerve-wrecking seconds of groaning and staring, he gave up.

“Alright, _fine,_ Charlie! _Ugh!”_ He ran a hand through his hair. “Husk asked me to keep an eye on the library today and prevent anybody from entering it. _You_ were the exception, of course, since it’s _your_ library and all.”

I stared at him, confused. “Why can’t anybody enter the library?”

The spider demon shrugged. “Dunno. He didn’t say why, but he gave me the impression it was pretty dang important. He also said he’d do it himself, but he needed to visit a couple of shady liquor stores down in the city. You know how he is.”

“How long are you supposed to do this?” I kept asking.

“Until he’s back.” Angel checked his phone. “And he said he would be back around… dinner time or something? Yea.”

“Sooo… until Husk comes back, you have to watch the library and allow nobody to enter it, except for me. Is that it?”

“That’s it.” Angel kept his eyes glued to his phone, leaning back against the wall. He just stared at his alarm, nothing too special. However, I didn’t need any clearer body language to understand that he was _done_ with this conversation and that I probably wouldn’t get more information out of him. 

“That’s – that’s _weird,_ Angel,” I still tried.

“Sure,” he monotonously said.

“And he _really_ didn’t tell you why—”

“Noooope.”

“Uhm.”

Angel Dust glanced up once more and aloofly patted me on my head when he saw me frowning at him.

“Run along now, blondie – I bet ya have more important things to do than have a catfight with me. Don’tcha?”

I hated to admit it, but he was right: as suspicious Angel was acting – and Husk, apparently – I could spend my time better right now. I’d ask Husk and Angel about their odd behavior later today – for now, I’d better get into my office and think of what my next step would be. Maybe getting on the internet and trying to look up all the information there was to find about Angels was a good first step. Discover what made them tick… 

I needed to know what could possibly have occurred during Alastor’s meeting with Hakim, after all. As soon as possible. Angel and Husk being weird could wait. Also – it wasn’t like this was the _first_ time they were acting really strange, right? These were _Angel Dust_ and _Husk_ – two sinners that had died as awful human being. Acting strange was what they _did._

So I exchanged a final, suspicious look with Angel Dust (I even did the ‘I’m-watching-you’-thing with my fingers), before I decided to leave. I didn’t say anything to him anymore – I just walked away from him, the gear wheels in my head spinning around restlessly as I made my way to my office.   
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
I couldn’t get access to the internet anymore.

What the hell?

Flabbergasted, I stared at the little symbol on my laptop’s display. It let me know that there simply _wasn’t_ any connection to Hell’s wide web possible – and no matter what I did or how many times I messed around with that damn router and modem (or how many times I put it on and off and on and off again), it was just a massive waste of time. The internet-symbol didn’t change and the only thing that happened was that my mood was starting to sour rapidly now.

But how was this even be possible – the internet connection in the hotel had _always_ been top-notch! It was one of the _few_ things of the hotel that was top-notch, even! I mean, the only time the internet hadn’t worked was when Al had used his radio waves to completely _crash_ the hotel’s internet servers a couple of months ago, when he was bored and felt like he needed to be a big _jerkass_ to the rest of the hotel’s sinners. But he wasn’t here _now_ – that was the whole _point!_

Alright – I had to admit that I knew Alastor’s meddling radio waves had proven to be powerful enough to disrupt the hotel’s internet connectivity from a distance as well, sure – but – no, it just – it just didn’t make any _sense!_ Why would he bother messing around with the internet _now?_

I shut the laptop with a frustrated groan and tapped my fingers on top of it, wondering what I could do next.

Call my parents? Oh god yes – I should _definitely_ call my parents! I could ask _them_ all of my questions! They would answer the phone – they were waiting for a call about Al, after all! I pulled out my phone… and felt my hopeful smile slither off my face right away when I noticed the ‘no signal’ –sign. 

Of _course_ there was a ‘no signal’ –sign.

Great. I harshly put my phone away again and carried on tapping my fingers on the laptop. Just… just _great._ Now the hotel didn’t have internet _and_ we couldn’t make/receive any calls, either. What was the next thing that was going to malfunction – our electricity?

What was I supposed to do in this… strange, unreal situation in which everything I thought of was effectively _ruined_ by unexplainable inconvenience?

Hm. Perhaps I could… go back to the library and check out if there were any books on Angels _there,_ but – that could take me _hours._ The library had been very… _creatively_ arranged and there wasn’t any real logic to its questionably order system, so god knows how long I’d be busy searching for even the slightest bit of information. Maybe things would go faster if I asked Vaggie to help me out—

_“Don’t forget our promise now, miss Moth!”_

My fingers suddenly ended their testy drumming when I remembered the unusual words Al had called after Vaggie, when she was about to leave the entrance hall this morning. That’s right – Vaggie had made a _promise_ with him. I had wanted to ask Al what that was all about, but he distracted me with kisses before I got the chance to.  
  
Had… had that been a coincidence or had Alastor _deliberately_ thrown me off there?

And if it _had_ been deliberate – then maybe he indeed had got something to do with Angel and Husk’s awkward behavior… and with the internet and telephone problems, too!

Wait – just what the heck was going on here?  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
_“Christ,_ Charlie, calm the hell _down_ already!”

Vaggie eyed me critically as she walked around the kitchen. She had been busy with both cooking and setting the table for dinner and since she apparently was doing it all by herself, she – understandably – wasn’t in the best of moods. I had figured this out soon after I had… somewhat chaotically stormed into the kitchen, _bombing_ her with my questions.

“Oh. S-sorry, Vag…” I stammered a bit out of breath, instinctively fiddling with my hair. “But…”

She held up a hand, as if she was shielding herself against my not-literal ‘but’.

“I’ll tell you what that promise was about in a bit, alright? It’s nothing too serious. Just… take it easy. You’ve had a rough day.” 

“Alright.”

Feeling a bit guilty about… well, _everything,_ really – I had spent this entire day either crying, _sleeping,_ hiding myself away or interrogating some of the hotel’s patrons – I quietly started helping Vaggie out, signaling at her she should just focus on the pots and pans while I set the table. Only the hotel’s workers ate in the kitchen, what meant the table should be made ready for… four people. Easy enough… 

My decision to assist Vaggie helped, thankfully enough: my friend shot me a grateful smile as she turned to stir into the biggest pot on the stove. There were multiple pots on the stove: the biggest one was for the hotel’s sinners, the somewhat smaller one for us – the actual workers. 

“You know how it is,” she continued to grumble as I took out some plates, “it originally was _Angel’s_ turn to help me prepare dinner, but noooo, no – something else came up and that was a lot more _urgent_ than laying the table, or so he said, and now he’s probably out in the backyard, laughing his fucking ass off while getting fucked by some random tenant at the same time, that useless piece of _shit!”_

I mumbled something to let her know I agreed with her complaint – and for a moment, I wondered if I should tell Vaggie about Angel’s mission to patrol around the library. Maybe she was part of – whatever their deal was, as well. Maybe she didn’t want to tell me what was going on either. 

Maybe…. I shouldn’t say anything at all. 

But then I reminded myself that this was _Vaggie,_ my best friend and ex-lover – and I just knew she’d never hide things away from me if she didn’t have a very good reason for that.

So I told her about Angel and Husk. I also told her about the internet and the fact I couldn’t make any phone calls anymore, since I was talking anyway, and I once more reminded her of the alleged promise she made with Alastor.

Vaggie patiently heard me out. When I was finished rambling, she sighed and quickly put some salt and pepper in the pots, before focusing her attention to me once more. 

“I don’t know what Husk and Angel are plotting, no. But if I _did_ know, you bet you’d be the first I’d tell. Screw those lazy dipshits – I’d rat them out every day, dammit. As for the internet… well I don’t know if Alastor is behind that. I guess it could be? But – doesn’t he have more… _important_ things on his mind than messing around with our servers and stuff? I mean, maybe one of the hotel’s sinners is behind the defects, or maybe there’s another easily explainable reason. But Alastor? No, Charlie… I actually _don’t_ think he’s the culprit this time.” 

I nodded, sitting down at the now neatly-set table. “And… what about… you know…”

“The promise,” Vaggie said, and sat herself down on a chair as well. “It wasn’t anything special, really. I just had to promise him I’d look after you when he… if he… um.”

“Ah.” I observed the table cloth. 

“That – that reminds me.” Vaggie cleared her throat and tried to sound more upbeat when she spoke up again. “Charlie – I was thinking. Maybe you, me and Niffty could have some sort of sleep-over party tonight!”

I looked up from the table. “You mean… the three of us?”

“Yes! Let’s have a girls’ night in!” Vaggie seemed to grow more enthusiastic when I gave her a small smile. “We could watch some fucked-up horror movies, play some of those dumb board games Niffty has stored in her bedroom, maybe even share some heartfelt secrets with one another, tyrannize Angel Dust and Husk – oh my god, yes. _Yes._ We should _totally_ tyrannize Angel Dust and Husk – let’s keep those losers up _all fucking night_!” 

“That sounds kind of fun,” I admitted.

Vaggie grinned excitedly. “Doesn’t it? That way, you—”

“…don’t have to feel lonely tonight, right?”

Vaggie’s smile dropped quicker than my brash dream version in my dream had done this afternoon and she avoided my eyes. Her hands anxiously pulled on the hem of her dress as she sought for something to say – something to explain herself. She looked vulnerable and uncertain, and I really didn’t like seeing her like that – not when she did the best she could to cheer me up. 

I should do something nice for her already.

So I beamed a huge smile at her, gripped the sides of my chair and clumsily moved both myself as the chair towards Vaggie.

“That's a _great_ idea, Vag!” 

Vaggie’s face lit up a bit as I took her hands and squeezed them. 

“Alright Vaggie – let’s do that! Let’s have a girls’ night in!”

“Y-yeah?” Vaggie frowned through her smile. “Are you – are you _sure,_ Charlie?”

“Of course, it sounds like a whole lot of fun! Let’s make sure the guys get to know _nothing_ about this little party though – it really is girls only! Just the three of us!”

“Okay!” Finally, the wrinkle in-between Vaggie’s eye and… not-eye disappeared, and her smile grew more radiant. This was the rare, adorably _childish_ side of Vaggie only her very close friends and lovers ever caught a glimpse of. “Okay – you know what, I’ll let Niffty know – you stay here and watch over the food for me for a bit! I’ll be back before you know it – man this is going to be so much _fun!”_

I laughed as Vaggie made her way out of the kitchen, trying to walk/skip as neutrally and casually as she could (even though even the most oblivious moron could see just how giddy she actually was).

A sleep-over with Vaggie and Niffty. Why not? Why the hell _not._

It wasn’t like I was getting anywhere with my sad excuse for a research anyway – and I could need a fun little distraction from my tumbling thoughts and theories.  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
And you know what – the sleep-over party really _did_ turn out to be pretty great!

Vaggie organized the entire thing and it was decided we’d have our sleep-over in her bedroom. Vaggie had this _humongous, king-size_ bed that could easily hold like six _fat_ people, and since neither I, Vaggie or Niffty were even close to fat, it was the perfect bed for us to have our little party in. 

I made sure we had enough horror movies to take us through the night, while Niffty gathered all of her crazy board games and Vaggie snagged all of the snacks out of the kitchen’s cabinets. We initially wanted to go for some booze as well, but since Husk had returned shortly before dinner and had been stationed at his bar once he was done eating (I guess the library wasn’t his priority anymore?), we went for soda’s and soft drinks instead. 

Which probably was for the best, really: alcohol made me whiny, Vaggie was a bad, _loud_ drunk and Niffty was just incredibly _hilarious_ when she was high on sugary drinks. So no complaints from my side!

We watched like three and a half disturbingly _graphic_ horror movies. Naturally, I was _terrified_ of them, while Vaggie laughed her ass off at every over-the-top, bloody murder. Niffty in the meantime was more interested in the flimsy romantic subplots the films had to offer and didn’t even bat her eye at all the slicing and gutting, so it was a pretty interesting experience for all of us.

Somewhere halfway the last movie, we courageously tried a couple of Niffty’s board games… but we soon discovered that _none_ of her games was still complete (I swear, every game was missing _something),_ so we just ended up playing a few rounds of poker, using candy and crisps as chips/money. When Vaggie confessed she still had her old GameCube on stand-by, we also did a round of Mario Party, just for shits and giggles. 

Vaggie won _everything,_ by the way. She completely _obliterated_ me and Niffty at every game and seeing her triumphantly stuff her own face with the wine gums she won from us after that last 3-against-1-minigame was downright _priceless._ I kind of wished we had taken a picture of that smug mug of hers – it was _amazing,_ I tell you.

We had planned to sneak into both Angel Dust and Husk’s rooms later that night as well, but unfortunately enough, Angel happened to have a ‘visitor’ over that night and Husk was – out again, apparently, so… 

…well, it was around that point, at, like, 2 o’clock in the morning, that the three of us started getting ready for bed – for _real_ this time.

Niffty, who had conquered a spot in the middle of the bed, was the first to drift off, hugging a life-size body pillow (or _whatever_ the heck _that_ was) of a Korean boyband-member to her chest and almost completely disappearing into it. Her cute little sleepy noises made me and Vaggie turn off the light and settle down as well.

“This was nice,” I hummed – couldn’t be too loud, I didn’t want to wake Niffty up. 

Vaggie let out a sleepy laugh. “It really was, right? I’m happy you enjoyed it.”

“I kind of needed this.”

“Yeah. I – I know.”

“Thanks, Vaggie. And Niffty, too – oh, I’ll make sure I’ll thank her tomorrow.”

A few silent seconds passed.

“Charlie?” Vaggie’s hesitant voice sounded through the air.

“Yes?” I said.

“How… how are you holding up, really?”

I gripped the sheets. “I’m fine, actually. Better than expected, haha…”

Vaggie needed some more time before she asked her next question.

“So you’ve accepted that he – Alastor – that he probably _won’t_ come back to the hotel?”

“No.” My hands clutched the sheets even tighter. “I’ve accepted that something has _happened_ to him. That’s… different.”

“You _don’t_ believe he’s ascended to Heaven?”

“Well do _you?”_

She snorted. “Honestly, Charlie, ever since waking up in Hell, _nothing_ really surprises me anymore. Spider demons turning out to be porn stars? Totally normal. _You_ having a secret library that for some reason holds _every single_ book that has ever been published on Earth? Positively run-of-the-mill. A sadistic, totally _mental_ serial killer being the very _first_ sinner to be taken to Paradise, out of all the losers here? Sure – why not? I’ve seen _everything,_ Charlie. With this single eye of mine – I’ve seen it all. Nothing is impossible.”

It was a good thing I was getting sleepy, otherwise this conversation would have depressed me more than I liked to admit. Other than that, I also believed I should be grateful for having constantly _bawled_ my eyes out earlier this week: if there had been any water left in them, I’d have shed some annoying tears right now as well.

I pulled up the covers some more. “Maybe I’m still in denial. Or in shock.”

“Hm-hm.” Vaggie yawned and I heard her move around a bit. “He’s at a better place right now, Charlie.”

“ _I_ was his better place though,” I mumbled, closing my eyes.

“I know. And I’m sorry.” Another yawn. “Good night, Charlie.”

I sighed. “Good night, Vaggie...”  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
After spending the night with Niffty and Vaggie, I had _almost_ come to accept that Alastor… _probably_ wasn’t going to come back. 

That he _probably_ had been taken to Heaven, no matter how _insane_ that seemed to sound. That he _probably_ was now strolling around in the Heavenly streets, happily chatting the ears off his mother’s head. That he _probably_ was going to talk things out with his father as well. 

Probably.

But…

I just didn’t buy it. 

Not _yet._

So the first thing I did the very next morning, when Vaggie, Niffty and most of the hotel’s tenants were still snoozing, was reach out to my phone and check if I had any signal. 

Before I would try to come to terms with Al’s departure to Heaven and start… I don’t know, processing the fact that he definitely wasn’t coming back to me, I needed to talk to my parents, first. I-I wasn't not even sure _why_ this talk was so important to me. Maybe they, too, didn’t know anything about how Heaven worked. What use would it have then to fire all of my questions at them? That would just be weird… 

Maybe I just wanted to hear a friendly voice telling me that everything was going to be alright.

Yeah. Y-yeah, maybe…

I squinted my eyes at my phone’s screen and much to my surprise, my phone’s reception was… perfectly _fine_ now. I could call and receive calls again. And when I quickly checked out some apps, I found out that I had regained access to internet as well! Everything was… normal again, I guess? 

So whatever happened yesterday… was over _now._

For some reason, this revelation made the nagging feeling of pure dread inside of me grow stronger.

Unable to stay in bed any longer, I crawled out from underneath the covers as soundlessly as I could, careful not to wake up either Vaggie (who was actually snoring a bit) or Niffty (who had somehow managed to latch herself onto both Vaggie _and_ her body pillow). I pressed my phone to my chest and hastily padded out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind me.

In the hallway, everything was still rather dark, because – well, it really _was_ way too early in the morning. However, there was already a little bit of light coming through one of the large windows here, so I settled down on its cold, yet sturdy sill, pulled up my legs and dialed my mother’s number. I knew she and dad were most likely still fast asleep at this point, and I probably needed to call her multiple times before I was able to catch her, but I couldn’t care less right now. Mom would understand. I hope. 

As my phone desperately tried to reach my mother’s and I waited for her to pick up, I stared out of the window, thinking about… nothing in peculiar as I scanned the sleepy streets of the city surrounding my hotel. I _did_ start to feel a bit better already, though. Watching Hell wake up from its slumber had a certain… charm, I suppose.

The first attempt failed, so I dialed mom’s number again, my eyes still looking at the streets outside. To my surprise, there already was somebody out of their bed: a tall figure could be seen walking around near the hotel’s main entrance. Huh. Apparently, there were more restless people in the morning out there… 

When the second call didn’t get through either, I groaned, annoyed – but I didn’t give up and, once more, called mom's phone. Heaving an already exhausted sigh, I glanced outside the window yet again. The tall figure I noticed earlier was actually walking the path leading straight to the hotel’s front door now. My god – a new _patron,_ this early in the morning? _Somebody_ was eager!

Were they — _leaking_ something?

Forgetting all about my mother and the damn phone she refused to pick up, I put my own down and pressed my face against the cold glass, trying to get a better look on… whoever was walking there. Oh geez, they seemed to have something stuck in their bac—

Was that blood? 

Were they… _bleeding?_

Was that—

Oh god.

The figure looked up, their eyes meeting mine, and I felt my body grow cold in an instant. 

Oh god oh god _oh **god**_ **.**

I fell off the stone sill and almost crushed my hand in my rush to back away from the now fogged-up window, but I didn’t feel any pain. Instead of whimpering or panicking, I scrambled off the floor as quickly as I could and just… just started _running_ to and then off the stairs, my frilly nightgown helplessly flapping around me. 

I had to open the front door _right now_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of ‘Invisible Man’ is a very depressing, almost _exhausting_ one. It points out many problems African Americans had to face in the early 20th century – but _especially_ the glaring fact that many African Americans didn’t feel like they, or their identities, were seen (as people). Hence the title.  
> The narrator of the tale has no name – or he at least he never tells us his name. He lives in a closed-off space and as he looks back on his life, we get to hear more about him (and how the hell he ended up in that room).  
> Starting from his teenage years, the narrator tells us how hard his life was: he was a bright young man, but needed to partake in a literal _battle royal_ in order to win a scholarship for college. Later, he gets into trouble when he accidentally chauffeurs an important white man to a dangerous neighborhood in which they are attacked – and the narrator is kicked out of school. The letters of recommendation he receives from his seemingly nice college president, turn out to be fake. Still, he manages to find work at a paint factory – where he gets heavily wounded one day by a paranoid co-worker and he is hospitalized. Eventually, some time after he gets out of the hospital and is taken in by a kind elderly lady, he discovers the ominous group ‘the Brotherhood’… and things just… don’t get better for our struggling narrator from that point on. Really – you get so _tired_ of all the bullshit he is forced to face.  
> Although some people praised Ellison’s work and called this book a masterpiece, it got banned as well: his novel allegedly had ‘too much violence’ and was considered to be ‘too sexual’.


	52. Tropic of Cancer (Henry Miller)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The identity of the visitor is revealed. Charlie does whatever she can to save them - and ends up getting wounded herself.

Within a couple of minutes, I found myself standing in front of the hotel’s front door, _completely_ out of breath. 

My chest was heaving up and down in a quick, oppressive tempo and my legs were shaky from spurting through the hotel as rapidly as I had done. I stared at the red door and absentmindedly fixed my nightgown somewhat, vaguely wishing I had – I don’t know – put on a bathrobe or anything. Then I took a big gulp of air, unlocked the entrance with a flat click that instantly echoed through the hallway – and swung open the door.

And there he was. 

Patiently standing and waiting on the silly _Welcome!_ -doormat I had put in front of the entrance a couple of weeks ago, his calm and collected grin changing in a more honest and less vicious one as soon as he saw me.

“Oh ho! Good morning, Charlie!”

“A-Al?”

I tightened my hold on the door as his invisible audience burst into an enthusiastic applause – and I looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. 

He – he had changed back.

His hair was longer – and it was red and black once again. His teeth were yellow and sharp. His skin was grayish, his hands were much like claws again and the radio noises buzzing and whirling in the air around him were unnerving enough to almost make me nauseous. 

With the exception of his left eye. That one, bizarrely enough, was still brown and human.

I felt I was getting ready to say something to him – I wasn’t sure _what,_ my thoughts and questions were tumbling over one another and doing their best to arrange themselves into an order I could use – but before I could even do as much as separate my dry lips from one another, I noticed the red and black stains on his person. The bruises on his face. The _abysmal_ state his clothes were in. 

The blood that was dripping from his back.

Oh god – that’s right, there was something stuck in his back!

“Well!” Al started – and _now_ I saw how strained his smile was, how much he seemed to struggle to stand upright, “this is all very nice and all, but – but may I enter the hotel now, my dear?”

Behind him, I saw his shadow, flying over the pathway leading to the hotel in a rush, carefully removing every single trace of blood that Alastor had been losing.

Just… just _how much_ had he lost?

“Y-yes,” I stammered, grabbing his arm and dragging him over the doorstep, “yes, Al, c-come in – _please_ get in!”  
  
  


**CcC  
  
**

  
As soon as Alastor was safe and sound inside of the hotel’s entrance hall – and as soon as I had smacked the door shut behind him – his entire carefree and casual stance disappeared in a matter of seconds, and I was just in time to grab him when he staggered and started slumping down. 

“Al!” I gasped, putting my chin on top of his shoulder and gripping his vest, “w-what is – where _were_ you – w-what has _happened_ to you? Wha—”

There was a catch in my voice when I got a good view on Al’s back and my eyes widened upon seeing a bright, white-hot beam of light sticking out of it. It had pierced the upper right side of his back and even now, I felt the intense _heat_ the ray emitted. I wanted to grab it – but Alastor stopped me.

“No, _don’t_ – touch that, my love. You’ll hurt yourself. It’s – a Heavenly spear. Demons and sinners can’t touch those without – awfully scalding their flesh.”

 _“What?”_ I hissed. “I – I can’t just let that _thing_ stay inside of you like that!”

“Oh this is nothing.” Al attempted to laugh – and even more blood gushed onto the floor and seeped into my once-pink nightgown as he did so. “It – will fall out, eventually – that’s what the other three did, after all…”

“You – you had _four_ spears stabbed into your back?”

“…give me a minute, Charlie…”

He slumped down even more – I could barely keep him up anymore. I gritted my teeth, did the best I could to keep him from slipping out of my arms, and made a decision. 

“Al?”

“…yes?”

“Better prepare yourself, ‘cause this is going to hurt.”

“Wait, Charlie, _don’t—“_

I didn’t catch the rest Alastor was going to say, since I snagged the spear of light with both of my hands, ignored the immediate _pain_ that shot through me as I did so, and _pulled_ with all my might. Alastor didn’t cry out in pain or try to fight me, but he _was_ gasping for air – and his knifelike fingers bored themselves into my shoulders with such a brute and harrowing _force_ that almost made me faint right then and there.

I didn’t give up though – I screwed my eyes shut, tried to think away the unbelievable agony both my hands as well as my shoulders were going through, and kept on tugging on the burning pillar that stuck out of Al’s heavily damaged body. 

Ultimately, I felt some movement in the unforgiving piece of weaponry – and not too long after that first hesitant, hopeful sign of success, I actually managed to slowly – _tortuously_ slowly – remove the spear out of Al’s back.

I let out a whimper of pain and dropped the thing as soon as it had come out of him. The spear clattered on the hard floor and rolled away from us. The burning light it emitted before was gone now, it had faded out almost instantly the second it wasn’t jammed into Al’s flesh anymore.

As I bit my lower lip and looked at my scorned, twitching hands, I felt Al’s claws retracting themselves out of my shoulders as well – and I sighed in relief, sinking to the floor. 

“It’s – it’s okay now, Al. I got it out.”

No response.

“Al?” I patted his back – the part that wasn’t penetrated, that is. “Al, stay with me, okay – I – I don’t think it’s a good idea to lose consciousness now, haha…”

Still no response, not even when I started to shake his body in an increasingly more panicked way. 

“A-Al? Alastor? Oh god – w-wake up, Al – come on – you just returned to me – you _just_ returned – don’t… Al, please _don’t…”_

I began breathing in and out in short, hysterical puffs of air and my thumping heart felt like it was going to burst any second now, but before I actually started to hyperventilate, Alastor was suddenly and rather roughly pulled off of me.

I was still panting as I looked up to Husk, who looked down on me in return with a blank expression on his face, Alastor swung over his shoulder like he was an old rag. The cat demon had some difficulties with keeping himself in balance, what almost made this whole situation a bit comical.

“Need some help with this dead-weight, Princess?”

“H-Husk,” I managed to get out, trying to get up from the floor. “Al – is he… i-is he…?”

“He’s fine.” Husk paused, glanced over Al’s still figure and rethought his words. “Well okay, he’s _not_ fine. He’s bleeding out like a goddamn _pig._ But he’s still alive, or whatever you call ‘life’ once you’re down here. He needs some medical attention though – fast.”

Medical attention. A spark of hope ignited inside of me. 

With newfound optimism, I collected myself and straightened my back.

“You go put Alastor in his bed and tend to his wounds, as good as you can. I’ll make sure to get in touch with my parents and get him the help he needs.”

“You’re gonna call your _parents?”_ Husk asked, giving me a critical look.

“Not – not good?” I frowned at him. “I _need_ to call them, though. The doctors in service of my family are the absolute _best._ And Al might – might _need_ the absolute best.”

“You got a point there.” Hush groaned, after glancing over his shoulder to Al’s unmoving body. “Fine – you go call them. I guess it’ll all work out anyway. I’ll go put this pincushion here in his room and – I dunno – stick a band aid on his face or somethin’.”

I nodded impatiently at him – then _raced_ back upstairs, as quickly as my wobbly legs allowed me to go. I knew I had left my phone on the window sill close to Vaggie’s bedroom. I decided to give my mother two more calls, and if she didn’t pick up _then,_ I was going to visit my parents’ place and personally kick her out of bed!   
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
Thankfully enough, my mom picked up right away this time, right at the first try.

_“Yes, Charlie? I noticed you had called me a couple of times, so—”_

I didn’t have time for this – _Al_ didn’t have time for this. 

So I interrupted her. “Mom, thank _god_ – I need you to send the family’s doctors over to the hotel as soon as possible!” 

_“What? But – but why, my sweet?”_

It took me a few attempts, but in the end, I still managed to explain the dire situation Alastor was in rather eloquently. You know, for somebody who was only still functioning because of this huge load of frenzied _adrenaline_ that was sloshing through her body right now.

There was an uncanny silence on the other side of the phone after I had ended my explanation.

“Mom?” I tried, wincing as I took a better hold on my phone. My hands were _killing_ me. 

_“Alastor returned,”_ mom finally said. It didn’t sound like a question – more like a statement.

“Yes?” 

_“When?”_

“Just now – mom, _please,_ I’m running out of time here!” I heard the sobbing tone in my voice and cursed under my breath, despising my blatant weakness. “Al – Al is going to _die_ if you don’t hurry and send me some help. He’s – he’s badly hurt. I don’t want him to die, mom – I don’t want him to die – I _love_ him, mom, I love him so much – it hurts – to think I might… might _lose_ him – I thought I already _had_ lost him – but he came back to me, and now… _n-now…”_

Knowing that my blunt, phlegmatic mother heard me crying on the phone like a madwoman for at least one long, embarrassing minute was going to haunt me for probably the rest of my life, but I was _desperate_ here.

And my mother seemed to understand as well, because eventually, she started soothing me. A bit harshly and unwillingly at first, for some reason – but as my weeping kept going on, her voice grew softer, kinder and more comforting. More _motherly._

_“Alright, alright… sshhh, my sweet little apple beignet – don’t cry, okay? I get it. I think I get it. It’s okay. I send them over. I go instruct them as soon as I’ve hung up on you.”_

“Y-yes?” I sniffed and rubbed my eyes – wincing once more. “Do you… do you think they can safe him?”

 _“Why of course,”_ my mother said after another short pause. _“Yes. Yes – naturally, Charlie. I’ll kindly inform them I’ll have their heads impaled on a stick if they fail to save him. **That** ought to motivate them.”_

“M-mom!” In spite of everything, that still made me utter a weak giggle. “Geesh! You’re terrible.”

_“I am.”_

Her somber tone startled me a bit.

“Wh – n-no, I was just _kidding,_ mom! You’re not terrible. You’re – you’re the _best!_ Thank you so much. I love you!”

 _“Yes. I…”_ Mom sighed. _“I love you too, my darling daughter. Now, if you excuse me – I need to wake up some grossly overpaid doctors.”_

After my mom had broken off the call, I found myself lost in thought for a little while as I looked at my phone. Then I reminded myself I should get myself ready for when the doctors arrived, and I forgot about my mother’s unusual, docile behavior.   
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
My mother’s kind encouragements must have given the Royal Doctors (as I liked to call them) multiple pair of wings, because the three of them arrived at the hotel within half an hour. 

Dr. Rocinante was a tall, broad man that vaguely resembled some sort of demonic donkey, Dr. Hubermann was a stern-looking, chubby brunette with a small pair of goat horns sticking out of her neat hairdo and Dr. Jos, the head doctor of the three, was a cowardly, brash, birdlike demon that knew he was good at his job – and didn’t mind bragging about it, either.

They were three competent, but also _vastly_ different healers that had been appointed as my family’s personal doctors for as long as I could remember. I didn’t know them all that well – my parents and I didn’t get sick easily – but that didn’t stop them from reprimanding me like they were my family members anyway, after I had explained the current situation to them. 

“You pulled a Heavenly spear out of him?” Dr. Jos gasped. “Are you _out of your mind_ , Your Highness? You’re lucky he didn’t bleed to death on the damn _spot!”_

“You used your bare hands to yank that thing out of him?” Dr. Hubermann griped. “Are you _daft,_ Princess Charlotte? What if your precious palms got damaged _beyond_ repair?”

“You haven’t got a mirror facing the front door in your entrance hallway?” Dr. Rocinante complained. “Do you have _any idea_ how much _feng shui_ you’re missing out on?”

Yeah. They…

They were _special_ like that.

Fortunately enough, they were actual _professionals_ as well – and as soon as they were done nagging at me for whatever reason that had presented itself to them, Dr. Jos and Dr. Rocinante took their medical things and packages and bandages and what-not and briskly carried on to Alastor’s bedroom. 

“Do _not_ disturb us,” they bellowed through the empty corridor, “we need _peace_ and _quiet_ in order to work our magic! Why is there an ugly old _cat_ in here!”

A mild struggle commenced in which the doctors unsuccessfully attempted to remove Husk from the bedroom. Thank god Husk only had to give Dr. Jos a black eye and Dr. Rocinante a swipe to the face before they accepted that the ‘ugly old cat’ wasn’t going to leave Al alone with them, and only then, things _finally_ calmed down in the hotel.

And to think – it wasn’t even 8 AM yet.

“Well, you’re going to get some nasty blisters and you’re going to be in a world of _hurt_ for the following days, but… it’s not as bad as I initially thought,” I heard Dr. Hubermann grumble as she studied my burned hands. She had stayed behind and ignored all of my stammering that she should go look after Alastor first. She didn’t want to hear _any_ of that and had simply pushed me down on a bench in the corridor in order to treat my wounds.

In the meantime, more and more sinners had gotten out of their rooms. While most of them didn’t care what was going on or why I was sheepishly sitting on a random bench in the corridor, with an angry-looking goat demon carefully wrapping my hands up with gauze, it wasn’t before long the entire hotel was buzzing with rumors about what had possibly occurred.

I heard a familiar voice cry out my name – and when I looked away from my hands, I saw Vaggie running towards me. 

“What the hell happened while I was asleep?” she wanted to know, eyeing Dr. Hubermann weirdly. “I wake up and the entire hotel is in _fucking uproar!”_

I smiled weakly. “Well…”

“I heard somebody say Alastor has returned – but that’s not true, right?” 

Vaggie stared at me – and the longer she looked, the more her expression changed. 

“Oh god. It’s true. The shitlord’s back. Heaven spat him out in the end anyway. No surprise there, really.”

“Yeah, but…”

Vaggie was unstoppable. “Also, what is _that,_ Charlie? He _burned_ your hands? Did he _actually…_ that’s it. That’s fucking _it._ Where is he? I’m going to stab that shitface _senseless!”_

I opened my mouth once more, but my doctor beat me to it.

 _“Easy_ now! He’s gotten stabbed more than enough already – so I suggest you calm down and go fetch me and the Princess some decent breakfast already. My co-workers and I didn’t even get the chance to _eat_ after Her Royal Majesty had yelled us out of bed!”

Vaggie lowered her (almost laughable small) spear in confusion, and looked at me again, waiting for an explanation.

I sighed. “I’ll tell you in a bit, okay? Things… happened.”  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
Dr. Hubermann allowed me to have breakfast in the kitchen, where I was able to quickly inform Angel Dust, Vaggie and Niffty about what had brought on the current chaos in the hotel. However, when I attempted to help Vaggie clean up the plates and such, the alert doctor caught a glimpse of my bloodied back – and she instantly sent me to my bedroom instead, forcing me to quit my hotel activities for the rest of the day.

“Rest of the _day?_ Hear, hear!” she sarcastically scoffed as she later, in my bedroom, skillfully pried my shirt from my torso, paying no attention to my shocked gasp when she started cleaning the mess Alastor’s claws had left behind on my shoulders, “well aren’t _you_ the comedian! Princess Charlotte, I hereby _forbid_ you to leave this room for the rest of the _week!”_

“What?” I said. 

“You heard me! You need to _recover!”_

“B-but the hotel – the tenants! Al! The things I had planned and organized!”

“Those can all wait!” I noticed from the corner of my eye the doctor now pulled a bottle of iodine out of her large and extensive medical kit – and I paled. “You foolish girl – if you happen to get hurt any _worse_ and the King and Queen find out, do you know what will happen with your doctors’ _heads?_ Or with our _intestines_ for all that matters? His Highness will make _garlands_ out of them, Princess Charlotte! _Garlands!”_

I yelped when the disinfectant chemical hit my skin.

Dr. Hubermann pretended to not hear or see my discomfort, but let out a sigh after a short while.

“By the way, that man Rocinante and Jos are treating – the Radio Demon? That’s your lover, isn’t he?”

“Y-yes,” I uttered.

“You like them _weird,_ huh,” she muttered. “Ah well. I’ll tell you what, Princess Charlotte: if you promise me to listen and stay put, I’ll keep you and your staff up to date about how he’s doing. Maybe I’ll even let you visit him, when my capable partners have saved him from the Void’s black-hole-ish clutches.”

“You mean _if_ they’re able to safe him,” I muttered, sharply inhaling through my nose when she started _rubbing_ the iodine on my sensitive back.

The female doctor let out a surprisingly cheerful, _bleating_ laugh, making the bed vibrate underneath me. _“If?_ Oh no no no! Don’t get all gloomy on me all of a sudden, dear! We _will_ save him! We will save him _good._ We happen to love having our heads on their rightful place a little too much, you see.”

I gave her a skeptical look over my shoulder, the burning on my back ebbing away when she grinned widely at me.

“A-alright,” I carefully said. “I’ll… I’ll trust you.”  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
Many, _many_ more hours passed before Vaggie (who had unofficially had been appointed as my nurse for the following week, since Dr. Hubermann had to go help the other Royal Doctors out at _some_ point after all) came into my bedroom to inform me that Alastor’s condition was, at _last,_ stable.

Oh thank _god._

It was nighttime already. The day had passed in a flurry of pain, confusion and uneasiness and now, only now, I was finally able to actually _lower_ my rigid shoulders after this wonderful message had been delivered to me. My entire stressed-out body settled down as I allowed myself to relax, at last.

He wasn’t in any life-threatening situation anymore. He was saved. Things were going to be alright.

Vaggie continued to tell me that according to the doctors, Al had lost a considerable amount of blood and his back would, unfortunately enough, bear even more unsightly scars and wounds that would never completely heal. But that was okay: Vaggie said that Al should probably be very thankful that he was a powerful overlord with a surprisingly durable physique, because an ordinary sinner most-likely _wouldn’t_ have been able to survive such a vicious Angel attack. Most sinners barely were able to recover from a _single_ Heavenly spear impaling their guts, let alone _four._

“Five,” Vaggie corrected me.

I jolted up from the mattress again – and Vaggie made a worried face when I flinched from the sudden pain.

“F- _five?”_

“Five spears, yes – Charlie, watch out, will you?” She approached the bed and began to aggressively fluff my pillow with a concentrated face. “Dr. Middle-Aged Lady said he was lucky most of the spears didn’t penetrate his back too deeply and probably fell out on his way back to the hotel – except for the spear you _stupidly_ yanked out of him, without _any_ regard to your own fucking safety. That was a real _nasty_ one, apparently.”

“Oh,” I said. I obediently waited for my friend to finish making my pillows more comfortable, before lowering myself on them again. I put my bandaged hands on top of the covers and frowned. I was trying to connect the many puzzling dots in my head.

“So the Angel – Hakim – attacked him.”

Vaggie pulled a chair to the bed and sat down. “Dr. Donkey Breath and Dr. Chicken Face said that _that’s_ what it looks like, anyway.”

“Why did he do that, though?” I looked at Vaggie, as if she could know the answer. “They were just supposed to have a _talk,_ right? That’s what mom and dad told me: Alastor would meet up with Hakim, they’d talk about Heaven for a bit, and while Alastor would make up his mind about whether or not he'd want to leave Hell, Hakim would decide what he would do with him: taking Al up to Heaven or just… leave him here.”

Vaggie nodded. “That’s what I had understood as well, yes.”

“So… where did it go wrong?” I wanted to know. “How did Al end up with five burning rays of light in his back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Alastor attacked Hakim when the Angel attempted to drag him off to Heaven?” Vaggie suggested.

“Could be…” I gasped all of a sudden and shot Vaggie an urgent look. “The Angel – what about him? Did he… did he get _killed_ in the process?”

“I believe so, yes.”

My heart fell. “R-really? But he promised… Al _promised_ me he wouldn’t…”

Vaggie lost her temper at that and snapped at me: _“Goddammit_ Charlie – don’t be so fucking _naive!_ Promise or not, as soon as that fucker took his spear out, Alastor wouldn’t have any other _option_ but to fight back! It probably was _kill_ or _be killed_!”

I shut up, not knowing how to respond to that.

Vaggie, who instantly regretted her outburst, gave me an apologizing look. She hesitated, but only for a moment. She then brought up one of her hands, touching her empty eye socket with it.

“Charlie, you know I… lost my eye during the Purge a few years back, right?”

I nodded, watching her in silence.

Vaggie shuffled on her chair uncomfortably. 

“Maybe it’s time I told you how _that_ happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Tropic of Cancer’ is a book that has once been described as the work that was ‘responsible for the free speech we now take for granted in literature’. If you ask me, it’s also a _huuuuuuuuge_ messed-up, sexual comedy/drama, based on the writer’s life as a struggling author in Paris. The novel combines fiction with the actual real, autobiographic escapades Miller went through while writing his book.  
> According to his novel, Miller goes to hell and back in Paris. He is but a poor man there, suffers from hunger, lands on the streets, feels incredibly lonely, misses his (recently divorced) wife back in America, and has a lot of insane sexual encounters. He feels like the worst and he feels like the best at the same time and – well, it’s just a really trippy book, like, _seriously_.  
> Funfact: one of the women he has sex with is a lady he calls Tania. Tania was based off Anaïs Nin, an author Miller had an affair with in real life, and in case you’re wondering, _yes_ , that was the woman responsible for the book title of chapter 7! Also yes: the ‘Henry’ Nin describes in _her_ work was Miller. Go figure.  
> Miller’s book kicked up a lot of dust, of course, and was banned in both the US (the first version is, allegedly, _still_ banned) and Turkey. I don’t think I need to tell you why.


	53. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (Mark Haddon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaggie tells Charlie how she lost her eye - and lived to tell. Husk pays Charlie a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to some of my friends on Twitter, I spotted another cute bit of art based on this fanfic, made by [CharlastorTrashheap](https://twitter.com/Charlastortras1)! It's from that chapter in which Charlie complained about Al's bony legs and used her pillow for some comfort, much to Al's disdain. Check it out [here](https://twitter.com/Charlastortras1/status/1256499884267618309)!
> 
>  _Also_ also, for those who wonder what books/characters the Royal Doctors are based on:  
> Dr. Rocinante --> Don Quixote's horse _(Don Quixote)_  
>  Dr. Hubermann --> Rosa Hubermann _(The Book Thief)_  
>  Dr. Jos --> Joseph Sedley _(Vanity Fair)_

Charlie didn’t utter a single word as I half-heartedly prepared myself to tell her the things – the _memories_ of what had happened that horrible night. 

Those shreds of thoughts and feelings were the kinds of memories that I rather kept to myself, in all honesty – back _then_ as well, after I had somehow managed to reach the Royal palace, with a burning piece of weaponry still stuck in my blinded eye. I faintly remembered a panicking Charlie, trapping me in her arms while screaming for her dad's help over and over again. _What happened_ , she had cried, _just tell me what the hell happened to you!_

Apart from sarcastically telling her that, well, by the looks of it, I _seemed_ to have been shot in the goddamn _eye_ _,_ I… didn’t want to tell her what exactly had happened. 

I just wanted… to forget. 

Even when it was all over, weeks, months and, eventually, _years_ later, I hadn’t wanted to tell her about the traumatizing experience I had gone through. Even _now,_ I knew I was asking a _lot_ of myself to open up at last and tell Charlie about what had transpired during that one particular Purge.  
  
That one… _Cleansing,_ during which I had been _stupid_ enough to leave the relative safety of my own home to go outside. For fuck’s sake – I couldn’t even remember _why_ I needed to go outside on that day, isn’t that just pathetic? I didn’t know _why_ I did it – I just know that I _did_ and frankly, that was enough. Maybe I had subconsciously erased this bit of information – who knows.

Alright – enough of this weak shit. I said I’d tell her, so I’d tell her. I breathed in and out – and started talking. 

“It’s… all a bit foggy. I don’t recall everything as clearly as I should, but… please bear with me.”

Charlie kept quiet, her eyes quietly encouraging me to continue. 

“So… on the night I lost my eye, I can remember I was running – running like my life depended on it, which it… very much _did._ I – I couldn’t see all that clearly anymore. That was because one of the Exterminators, who had surprise-attacked me and was chasing me through the bloodied streets of Pentagram City, had managed to pierce my eye with an Heavenly weapon of some sorts. A small, Heavenly arrow, as your father later said after he had removed it. I was fortunate enough it wasn’t a damn _spear_ though, because I don’t think I’d survived a fucking _spear to the eye_.”

“Oh god,” Charlie murmured, shivering, “you’re right – you were _lucky_ it was ‘just’ an arrow… I-I never realized _that.”_

I made a ‘forget about it’ –gesture with my hand. “But anyway, Charlie – do you know how I managed to escape that murderous Executor from Heaven?”

“It… eventually gave up chasing you?” she suggested with a small voice.

Normally, I’d have found her refreshingly innocent and idealistic views on problematic people and certain life-threatening situations like the annual Purge admirable. Now, they just annoyed me. 

I groaned and narrowed my remaining eye at my former lover. “Angels _don’t give up_ , Charlie. They set their sights on you and they _stalk_ you, to the end of Hell and _back,_ if needed. They don’t rest until your dead, _gored_ body lies in front of them. No – it didn’t give up. I was just lucky enough to have gotten the opportunity to hide away from that Exterminator’s field of view for a few minutes. The Angel didn’t _leave,_ though. It kept hovering around my hiding spot – it was some sort of hole, barely visible because of all of the debris from a collapsed house that lied on top of it – and I think… I think it stayed there for least an _hour._ I was _tired_ and _wounded_ and so very _scared,_ and, honestly, I thought I was done for.”

“But... then something _happened,_ right?” Charlie asked.

I acknowledged her remark with a hum. “Then something happened, yes. It turns out my luck hadn’t run out just yet, because when the Exterminator was about to find out where I had holed myself up in, a… a long-haired girl that happened to look a lot like _me_ came sprinting around the corner, close to my hide-out. She – unknowingly – effectively convinced the Angel of Death that she was... _me.”_

“Did she…?”

I brusquely shook my head, my lips a tight line. “She didn’t stand a chance.”

Charlie gulped. “That’s… that’s _terrible._ I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know – I didn’t _tell_ you. _Ever.”_

“Oh Vaggie…”

I shrugged and gripped my own arms, halfheartedly hugging myself. I didn’t want my thoughts to linger on the final moments of the poor young woman that had unwittingly scarified herself for me any longer. On some lonely nights, she _still_ terrorized me in my most feverish dreams – and I didn’t want to think about her, I didn’t want to think about her, I just _didn’t want to think about her_ and I quickly carried on, before my own guilt would swallow me whole. 

“Now… now _I_ survived that Angel attack because of sheer, cruel _luck._ But Alastor – Charlie, there aren’t many sinners and demon overlords in Hell that stand out like the hammy and infamously dangerous _Radio Demon_ , _especially_ not if he was still looking almost _human_ when he met up with Hakim. If Hakim had indeed attacked Alastor, the _only way_ for Alastor to survive such a violent encounter would have been to _kill him_.”

Charlie pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything yet.

“Like I said: Angels don’t _give up_. They don’t _flee._ They don’t _spare_ sinners. They hunt them down and they kill them in cold blood. _That’s_ what I think,” I concluded.

“But Hakim wasn’t an Angel of Death,” Charlie pointed out, surprising me by _instantly_ trying to reason with what in my eye(s) would have been inevitable. “He was just a plain Angel, according to dad. Maybe plain Angels are different from Exterminators.”

“I heavily doubt that,” I scoffed. “They’re all… all brutal murderers and killing machines, no better than the sinners of Hell. Shit – they might even be _worse_ than the sinners of Hell.”

Charlie didn’t reply to that. She wore a concentrated frown, as if she was thinking hard about something. Her hands – _god,_ her poor, blistered _hands_ – were silently lying on top of the bed sheets, hesitantly plucking at the fabric right underneath them. Charlie still had this endearing character trait that she had to fidget with things when she was uncomfortable or contemplating about something, whether her hands were wounded or not.

She suddenly looked up at me – and I was quick to pretend I hadn’t been concernedly staring at her.

“Did anyone of the Royal Doctors say what _their_ thoughts were about the circumstances – or about the Angel?”

I tried to remember what the weird doctors, during their rare breaks the past couple of hours, had muttered to one another.  
  
“More or less… they said they knew about as much about Angels as any other ordinary sinner, which… isn’t all that much. That one female doctor _did_ say the severity of Alastor’s wounds told her that the Angel, in any case, was set on killing Alastor. He was _not_ supposed to get out of this meeting alive. He should have _died_ that day.”

“I just don’t get it,” Charlie mumbled, her concentrated frown only deepening. “I don’t get _any_ of this. What about Al – what did Al himself had to say about it?”

“Say? Not very much. He hasn’t been really talkative. You know, since he’s been on the verge of _death_ and all.” I huffed sarcastically. “He’s still unconscious, Charlie. Out like a light. A very _red_ light.”

Her focused look disappeared from her face in a heartbeat, making room for an intensely worried one.

“B-but his condition is _stable,_ right?”

“Yeah.”

“He’ll make it, right?”

“Well you know what they say. You never get rid of _certain_ types of weed.”

I thought that cheeky comparison would at least make her curl her lips upwards a little, but Charlie didn’t seem to have caught what I had said and she became restless instead. She even tried to climb out of bed!

“Hold up – what do you think you are doing?” I said, sternly halting her with a single hand on her shoulder.

She attempted to shake my hand off of her. “I – I need to see how he’s doing.”

“No.”

“But his life’s no longer in danger – it should be fine. Just a quick peek.”

“Charlie, _no!”_ I grunted and pushed her down on the bed – maybe a bit gruffer than I had planned to do. Charlie yelped in pain as she tumbled back down, on her sore back, and her body recoiled in response.  
  
“Oh god – I’m sorry, Charlie – but…”

I sighed and felt my arms slump in defeat when I noticed Charlie’s watery eyes, as she clumsily pulled her covers over herself once more. She didn’t look at me and her hands were quivering.

I clenched my hands together and savored the feeling of my nails boring themselves into my palms. Why? Why did I always – _always_ make her cry? Why?

“…just… just try to do what the doctors tell you, okay?” I eventually stammered, hoping, _praying_ she realized I was doing this for her own good. “You’ll get to meet him soon enough, Charlie – but you need to give both him and the doctors some _time._ He may be stable now, but you don’t know how long that will last. Things can change – rapidly. _You_ of all people should know that. Have a little faith in the people around him and wait until they give you the green light. _Please,_ Charlie.”

Charlie sniffed wordlessly, stiffly staring up at the ceiling. I simply stood there, feeling extremely helpless, until I made a decision. I came closer to the bed and reached out to move her around a bit – help her get into a less painful position to lay in. It was a very _risky_ thing to do and for a moment, I was afraid she’d angrily slap my hands away from her, nagging at me to leave her the hell alone, but she didn’t – she let me.

“You’re right,” I heard her say. “I hate it – but… y-you’re right.”

I felt relieved when she shot me a small, understanding smile and I nodded coyly, continuing adjusting her sheets.

“A-also – thank you, Vaggie.”

I stopped decisively tucking her in to blink at her. “For what? For making you hurt your back even _more,_ like a _bitch?”_

She shook her head. “For telling me about… what happened to you, all those years ago. And what happened to that girl… that was horrible. It mustn’t have been easy for you… dealing with all of the scars from back then for so long, all by yourself.”

“Oh well,” I muttered.

“Why telling me _now,_ though?” Charlie’s eyes softened, but still seemed to look right through me, even when I looked away from her. “I appreciate it – I really do – but… why didn’t you tell me when we were still together, Vaggie?”

I kept avoiding her gaze, but I couldn’t prevent the mountain-high walls around me lowering, nor could I stop the words leaving my mouth.  
  
“It was too painful. I didn’t feel… at ease, talking about it. I feared it could have left an impact, or some other kind of strain on our relationship, that would ruin what we had. In hindsight, keeping this story quiet from you was probably one of the things that ironically _caused_ us to grow apart from one another. I chose to tell you _now,_ because… I guess it just was about time I finally did.”

Also, I didn’t have to fear losing her anymore. You can’t lose what you already lost. 

I didn’t tell her _that,_ though.

I no longer refused to look at her – and that’s why I was just in time to see Charlie beaming a smile at me that was slightly bigger than the last one. 

“I’m glad you shared this with me.”

“I guess.” I folded my arms together, but _loosely._ “I – I do feel lighter now.”

“I bet.” She reached out a burned hand towards me and carefully patted me on the knee. “Well done, Vag. I’m so _proud_ of you!”

Her kind words and that weak hand of hers, stubbornly trying to give me some comfort in spite of the horrific state it was in – it was almost too much warmth for me. Warmth I didn’t deserve – not _really._ I had to grind my teeth and squeeze my upper arms harshly to avoid bursting into tears right then and there. I sharply in- and exhaled through my nose and forced myself to push the following words through my tightened lips. 

“W-what business do you even _have_ in Hell, Charlie? For Christ _sake…”_

“What?” Charlie asked, blinking. “I’m sorry – what did you say?”

I just shook my head at that.  
  


  
**CcC**   
  
  


It wasn’t easy for me to do so, but in the end, I listened to the Royal Doctors and Vaggie and – stayed put. Like a well-behaved little Princess, I guess. Admittedly, I found it a bit weird that they more or less _forced_ me to stay in bed, like I was sick or slowly _dying_ while I _really_ wasn’t, but in the end, I think I understood. They just wanted me to stay in a place they could keep an eye on me and make sure I wouldn’t try to sneak out and… visit Al, I suppose.  
  
And – well, my hands were a mess. Like, for _real._ My skin wasn’t peeling off my bones or anything like that, and I could still _feel,_ which meant no critical nerves had been severely wounded. But as the days started crawling by, I realized the healing process of my hands was slow and outright _frustrating._ My back recovered from its injuries pretty quickly, thank god, but my hands? My hands just weren’t in a hurry to get better already – and I grew tired of that. It simply wasn’t a very fun thing to do, sitting around in your bed and only carrying out things and/or tasks you didn’t have to use your hands for.

I missed using my hands… 

Dr. Hubermann scolded me when she overheard me complaining to Vaggie a day or three later, though.

 _“What,”_ she cried out, slamming the door open and nearly giving both me and Vaggie a heart attack, “you think you’re not healing fast enough? Princess Charlotte, I’d like you to know that if you _didn’t_ have any Angel blood in you, your hands most likely wouldn’t have been able to heal at _all!_ So you better count your blessings, you impatient girl, since things could have turned out a lot _worse_ for you!” 

After that little incident, I decided to watch what I said, since the doctors were always… _unsettlingly_ close by, apparently…

Anyway, in the meantime, no matter how overbearing she was, Dr. Hubermann _did_ keep her promise: she kept both me and my friends and co-workers informed about Alastor’s condition. Apparently, he had woken up – and actually stayed awake for a bit – two or three days after the incident. He started to eat and drink again on day four and he was able to talk again near the ending of that same day. A fun little fact was that Al’s radio waves and dial noises had been active _the entire time_ , or so Husk told me, when he came visiting me on day five.

“You wouldn’t _believe_ what a huge pain in the _ass_ it was to sit around and hear those _screeching_ sounds he was constantly making. Like _damn._ I couldn’t even sleep at night unless I flung a fuckin’ _blanket_ over his head to disturb those annoying radio signals! Oh and don’t even get me started on that _shitty_ audience of his – the excited gasps and popcorn-eating _racket_ those fuckers made while their ‘host’ was fighting for his life grew old faster than _I_ did once I had discovered the soothing wonders of some good liquor, let me tell you _that_ much!” 

I laughed a bit at that – not per se because of what Husk said (even though it was morbidly funny), but because he was _here._ Seeing the cat demon leave Al’s side was a sign that he wasn’t worried for his recovery anymore. It put me at ease.

“You’re a good friend, Husk,” I told him, as I watched him sit on the chair next to my bed, his entire posture _screaming_ at me just how uneasy he felt to be here.

His ears perked up at that and his face crumpled up in disbelieve. “Me? A good _friend?_ Ha – _good_ one, Princess. That red bastard and I ain’t _friends_ – I just owe him money, nothing more, nothing less.”

“You stayed by his side for almost a whole week – out of your own accord,” I reminded him.

Husk _harrumph_ -ed, furrowing his brows. “Hey, if there’s a chance he might cut me some slack and maybe conveniently ‘forgets’ an amount of the money I owe him later, I fuckin’ _take it._ ”

“You even fought some doctors off when they tried to kick you out of his room.” I stared at him, feeling my eyes widen as a sudden thought popped up. “And – I’m not sure why, but… I get the feeling it’s thanks to _you_ Al survived all of this.”

“Why?” he bluntly asked, unfazed. 

That caught me off-guard. “Why? Uhm…”

“ _I_ didn’t pull that spear out of his back with my bare hands. _I_ didn’t order some doctors – the best of Hell, you said – to try and safe his sorry excuse for a life.” He paused for a second. “ _I_ wasn’t the reason he managed to come back.”

“W-well…”

“That was all _you,_ Charlie. _You_ saved him – in more ways than you might think – and if it wasn’t for you, he’d be as dead as a dodo right now, _believe_ you me.”

Flustered, I kept silent and – gently – rubbed my red cheeks a bit. I didn’t know what to say.

Husk waited for a little while, but when he came to the conclusion I wasn’t able to decently respond to him, he cleared his throat.

“He asked for you, you know.”

I snapped out of it and felt my jaw drop. “W-when?”

“As soon as he _could_ of course, the stupid _fucker._ ” Husk rolled his eyes. “Yesterday, he was about to wake up again and his hand was gripping around, like a spastic, sharp… _scorpion._ He somehow got his gross, pointy claws on _me._ Guess the first thing he stammered? Your name – even though I think I don’t have to tell you our hands are _nothing_ alike. Then Al woke up for real, noticed _my_ sour and disgusted face looking down on him instead of your pretty one, and he practically _threw_ my paw back in my face – he threw _my very own paw_ at me, Charlie! Can you believe that asshole?”

“I’m sorry, but… uhm… w-what did he say?” I sat up some more and leaned towards Husk, almost falling out of my bed in the process. “Did he… did he talk about me?”

The cat demon gave me a bored and irritated look – plus a swift, grumpy nod.

“Yeah. He wanted to know how your hands are doing. I told him they were forcefully removed and replaced with hedge cutters. Boy you should’ve seen that disheartened _face_ of his right before he threw up all over the place, haha.”

“Husk – oh my _god_ – what the _hell?”_

He waved his paws at me, smirking. “Kiddin’, Princess, I’m obviously just kiddin’.”

I shot him an angry look. “That was _not_ funny!”

“Story of my life.” He shrugged. “Seriously though – how _are_ your hands doing? I’ll tell him later.”

“My hands… you can tell Al they are getting better.” I raised them to show Husk. “They’re still very sensitive and the gauze is getting _really_ itchy, but the doctor said they’ll fully heal. Because of my Angel blood or… whatever.”

“So because of your father, right?”

“Indirectly, I guess.”

“Hmm. Okay. I’ll pass the message to Al.” Husk’s eyes lingered on my hands, his nose wrinkling at the sight of them. “They look like shit though.”

“They _feel_ like shit, too,” I agreed – and that elicited a short chuckle out of him. 

“Nice – _that’ll_ teach that fuckin’ dipshit to screw around with me. After all that longing and moaning, Al won’t even be able to hold his precious Princess’ _hands_ tomorrow! Ha – serves him _right!”_

My heart skipped a beat. “T-tomorrow? Does… does that mean…”

“That’s why I came here for, really – to tell you you can drop by Al’s room tomorrow,” Husk said. “The doctors are just as fed up with his shit as I am. Dr. Rocinante was kind of a hard-ass and refused to give in to his request to allow visitors in his room for the longest time, but when Al’s tentacles grabbed him by his ankles, dangled him outside of the window and threatened to _smack_ him onto the pavement, the donkey man wisely changed his mind.”

I made a face. “He _threatened_ one of the people that saved his life?”

Husk rolled his eyes. “He’s _Alastor,_ Princess – the Radio Demon. Don’t act too surprised. He might have a – _very_ – weak and soft spot for _you,_ since you’re his darlin' lover, and sure, maybe there are _more_ people he kind of likes, but don’t think for a _second_ he’s become a good person all of a sudden.”

“I _don’t,”_ I firmly stressed, because I remembered what Al had looked like when he had reappeared in front of the hotel, almost a week ago. All of his former changes had been reverted to their original demonic state – with the exception of his left eye. I still wondered what all of that could mean – what he had _done._

It must have been something… something _terrible,_ judging on the fact he lost almost all of his progress. Something unspeakable _evil._

I involuntarily shivered at that and felt my hands sting when I grasped my sheets a bit.

I guess there was just one way of finding out just what had happened during the meeting between Al and the Angel Hakim… and that was asking Alastor _himself._

Would he tell me the _truth,_ though? 

And also, would I want to _know?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time’ (would you just look at that title, it’s freaking _amazing_ ) a couple of years ago, when I was still in college. We needed to read YA-books that had got something to do with children and ‘being different’… and this was the one I decided to read. I really, really enjoyed this book, it was something completely different from what I was used to.  
> Our main character is Christopher, a teen who is heavily implied to be on the autism spectrum. We see the events of the book through his eyes – and boy does Christopher see some stuff. One unfortunate morning, he discovers that the dog of his neighbor has been stabbed to death with a garden fork. He decides to try and figure out who killed the poor dog, despite his father’s warnings to please stay out of it and mind his own business. Christopher doesn’t though – and gradually, he discovers more about not only the dog, but also about the complicated world of adults… and the _real_ reason his parents split up. It’s an interesting, fascinating and sometimes downright _heartbreaking_ story, that thankfully ends on a sort-of happy note.  
> Now, you might think this award-winning book probably got some backlash because of the tender subject of autism. Right? Well – not really. This book was mainly pulled out of a couple of (school)libraries because somebody said ‘fuck’ on page 4 or so, and because Christopher at some point in the book states that he doesn’t believe that there is a God. The sheer _nerve!_


	54. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (Jonathan Safran Foer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor tries to walk around his room. Charlie pays him a visit. And there was much rejoicing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To lift your spirits in these trying times, have some [c u r s e d content](https://twitter.com/shisuriyoko/status/1257312851183591425) by the incredibly funny [Shisuriyoko](https://twitter.com/shisuriyoko)! Al's first time has never been more painfully hilarious. XDDD  
> Oh, and if you're looking for some [wholesome content](https://twitter.com/yolkei/status/1257509878190374912), you should check out the work of the lovely [Yolkei](https://twitter.com/yolkei). I love her light and soft style!^^

Alright – that was _quite_ enough of that.

I needed to at _least_ get out of bed, _right_ this instant, before the horrendous boredom of it all would drive me _mad._

With an annoyed sigh, I pushed my battered body off the mattress, paying the immediate, deep-rooted pain that shot up and down my neatly bandaged, yet still badly marred back no mind whatsoever.

Well.

I _tried_ to pay it no mind, that is.  
  


  
**AaA  
  
**

  
Please don’t get me wrong: I thought I had a fairly decent bedroom. I’m not one to complain about the things he gets offered, let alone entire chambers.

And my bedroom – it was a very tidy, spacious room that only contained necessary furniture I actively used, now and then. With that, I meant an impressive dresser, a bed with clean sheets, a polished mirror, a grandiose grandfather clock, some trivial lamps, two nightstands and a sturdy desk with an equally dependable chair that fitted the desk so _well_ that I still felt boastful over their masterful compatibility sometimes. 

Even now! Just take a _gander_ at that lucky combination! What a _wonderful_ coincidence that had been!

Ah, but I digressed. 

Now, apart from the irrelevant items that belonged to be in this particular chamber as well – clothes, books, notebooks, pens and the occasional thingamajig I didn’t even acknowledge as something that was supposed to be mine – there was _nothing_ noteworthy to see in here. Not even any decorations of any sort. Oh no no no. _Such_ a waste of effort.

When I still used this bedroom, I barely spent any time in here at all, you see. This was simply the place where I slept (or should I say, _attempted_ to sleep) and the place where I worked - sometimes, when I felt like it. I made sure to never dwell around in this room longer than was absolutely needed and I had even arranged my bedroom to be this functional, yet mundane on _purpose._

Yes: one could say it had been a series of deliberate choices on my part to make this room as utterly, devasatingly _boring_ as I could, because it kept me on my toes, kept me _driven_ to go out and do some entertaining activities, or… _anything,_ to be fair. Simply _anything_ other than wasting my afterlife away in this clean, yet so mind-numbingly _dull,_ bland room. _That_ had been the reasoning behind it all.

But dear _lord_ was I regretting my choices _now!_

I had been stuck in this room for almost an entire week now, of which I had spent the last three days generally fully _awake,_ my mind no longer hazed or blurred by medicines or the agonizing, throbbing pains coming from my brutalized back – and my _goodness_ did this room _bother me so_ after all those listless hours of either sitting upright or lying on my stomach in bed!

For many reasons, Husker had been with me for the last couple of days, which made time pass a tad quicker. Him being here with me also made my current situation a lot more tolerable and convenient, for which I was thankful.

However, yesterday, Husker had suddenly _stopped_ being with me all day long, soon after he had found out I was feeling lively enough to almost chuck an annoying doctor out of the window. He had criticized me for that – and then he had simply gotten up from his chair and left the room. 

Just like that. Didn’t even bother to close the door behind him, like he was born in a barn.

Unbelievable! Such a cruel, _cruel_ hairy _devil_ , that Husker!

When he returned a little while later, I had – rather pathetically – _scowled_ at him, asking why my _supposedly_ loyal associate had the sheer _nerve_ to all of a sudden leave me alone in this _hellishly_ flat room like that. Husker wasn’t impressed by my complaints and bluntly said he didn’t feel like ‘babysitting a weakened asshole’ all day long if said weakened asshole primarily jabbered Husker’s ears off about how much he missed his wonderfully lovely Princess, instead of instructing the cat demon on what he should do next.

Well. What could I say?

I happened to miss Charlie, yes. A _lot,_ even.

I had been without the fair Princess’ graceful presence for almost seven days (almost _seven awful days_ , _ha,_ and to think: just a little while ago, I thought a mere _eight_ hours without Charlie were downright _torturous_ already!) and my blatant longing for her was starting to hinder my thoughts, _for god’s sake_. 

The doctors – all three sent from the Royal family’s palace or so I had learned, _much_ to my huge astonishment – had forbidden all visitors (including Charlie) from entering my room until I had healed from my injuries, to a certain degree. Husker had been the stubborn exception to the rule, naturally. I myself had been too weak and in too much pain to get out of bed and wander over to Charlie’s room anyway, so – there wasn’t much I could do about my current situation… 

…that is, until I had _finally_ lost my patience with the blathering physicians yesterday and threatened to plummet one of them to the cold, unforgiving ground outside of my bedroom’s window with a little help from my dark, vine-like limbs (or _tentacles_ as the people around me seemed to call them). _Then_ the doctors finally all agreed that at _least_ my lover should be allowed to visit me. They also agreed that I was frighteningly ungrateful and ‘kind of a dingy bastard’, or so the spunky female doctor had muttered, looking me dead in the eyes. I liked her!

I could have told them my death threat had, in all honesty, been just _that,_ just a _threat,_ since even _I_ knew when to count my blessings and be thankful for small (and enormously _big)_ mercies, but I was too tired for discussions at that point. Also, I didn’t mind being called a dingy bastard. Ha! I had been called _worse!_

But anyhow, I got what I asked for: Charlie was going to visit me today, or so Husker had let me know during his latest visit. 

He had only stayed for five minutes, the _cad,_ but that was alright, since I felt so overwhelmed by the wonderful news he had brought to me that I couldn’t even _procress_ the bizarre happiness the thought of Charlie, visiting me, brought to me. 

_The mere thought alone._ For _shame._

But, oh! What did it even matter?

She was going to look me up!

Charlie was going to look me up!

She was going to be with me again, she was going to ignite this spark in my heart and make everything seem better and brighter again and _oh my lord why in the world couldn’t I stop thinking like a giddy infatuated **brat** for one second? _

I grunted in annoyance and gave myself a swift, corrective slap in the face. It stung – but that was _good._ I needed to stop daydreaming and focus on what was almost right in front of me. Right in front of _her._  
  
It was only a matter of time, now.

I needed to keep it together.

Especially now that I was _so close_.  
  
  


**AaA  
  
**

  
Well then – so far, I had succeeded in sitting upright at the side of the bed, without the support from the many pillows lying on the head side. A very impressive accomplishment indeed and I would pat myself on the back, if that very same gesture wouldn’t cause me so much pain that it would knock all the wind out of me. 

As long as I sat upright and didn’t ask too much of myself, my deep wounds weren’t _too_ unpleasant to deal with, I had figured out – so if I was going to walk around the room for a brief spell, all I needed to do was prevent my back from arching _whatsoever._ Thankfully, I most of the time _easily_ managed to keep both my smile _and_ my back as straight as straight could be, so I wasn’t worried.

…well alright, maybe I was a _bit_ worried, but that would pass. I merely needed to concentrate! I could do _that_ much.

I snapped with my fingers and my microphone and its stand materialized on the spot, a reddish puff slowly dissolving as I took the cane-like item and placed its base on the floor.

Right – and now, I had to get up. Nice and easy… steady now… _steady…_

It took a few tries, since I kept using too much of my back muscles (which _hurt_ me and made my radio frequencies tune themselves to insufferable high-pitched, panicked _screeching),_ but when I finally understood how to largely rely on my arms, microphone stand and legs to pull myself up, I finally was able to stand upright.

As the noises faded away and my invisible radio audience started to applaud and cheer in admiration, I allowed myself a prideful little grin – and I thought about what to do next. I heavily leaned on my microphone stand-turned-cane and my eyes fell on the grandfather clock, right next to the door. 

Ha _ha!_ If I could make it over to that clock, I could try for the window as my next checkpoint – and when Charlie was going to visit me later, she wouldn’t see a pathetic man groaning in bed, like some undignified _weakling,_ but she’d see the _glorious_ Radio Demon, thoughtfully looking outside of his window like one of those brooding gentlemen in the literature I had recommended to her (and I _knew_ she had taken a shine to Mr. Darcy, that posterchild of sulking men all over the literary world). Charlie would _marvel_ at my _dashing_ posture and quick recovery – and I’d happily let her fawn over me.

And then I’d kiss the living daylights out of her. 

Yes.

Oh my _goodness_ I would.

I hummed and nodded decisively, agreeing with this great setup I had in mind. But – first things first, I needed to reach that clock. Couldn’t start brooding before reaching that blasted clock. 

After heaving a final, resolute breathe, I firmly gripped my stand and put one foot in front of the other. Slight bits of pain instantly _zapped_ through my back and I needed to grind my teeth, but it actually didn’t burn too much. I had expected much worse, in all honesty.  
  
I fixed my gaze onto the clock once more and took another step. 

Then another one.

Oh it hurt, yes – and oh, I was in a _lot_ of pain – but I was _walking,_ wasn’t I? That alone was worth all the effort.

I moved forward once more and just when I believed I was starting to get the hang of this walking-while-being-heavily-injured-trick, my bedroom door opened, out of the blue, and I had to put a stop to myself: I couldn’t both look up _and_ keep on walking in the state I was in, after all.

“Oh _dang_ it, he could be asleep, maybe I should have knocked first,” I heard a very well-known voice mutter nervously – and my torn up back was temporarily forgotten when Charlie’s beautiful blonde figure carefully stepped into the room.

“Charlie?” I heard myself croak out.

Charlie, who had closed the door right as she had entered my bedroom, turned over to look at me – and her pretty face lost even more of its already pale color when she saw me awkwardly standing/wobbling next to my bed.

“Alastor?” she stammered.

“Charlie!” I said once more – now with no silly voice-cracking shenanigans. Sadly enough, the extra energy I had to put into keeping a steady back _and_ a steady smile _and_ a steady voice made me gradually (and quite _ironically)_ lose my balance. “My love, you _came!”_

Charlie took a few steps towards me, looking troubled. “Yes, here I am, but – Al – what the _hell_ are you doing out of bed? Doesn’t it _hurt_ to walk?”

“Oh yes! It does! It does hurt – _very_ much so!” I laughed heartily, because that was still better than tearing up or hissing profanities under my breath because of the increasing pangs I felt shooting through me. “Well! You will have to excuse me for a bit, my dear – I think I’m going to fall over now.” 

“Wha – _no!_ Don’t fall over – _Al!”_

Charlie rushed over to me when I started falling forwards – naturally, since I was doing all that I could to make sure I at the very least didn’t fall _backwards_ – and my charming lover was just in time to catch me in her arms. However, she realized with a startled shriek I was too heavy for her to prevent me from falling down all the way anyway, and she was smacked down onto the floor as well.

 _“Gah,”_ Charlie gasped as I fell onto her slim, soft body with a _thud,_ and she cringed when my radio waves acted up again, piercing the air with their merciless, shrill static discord. I couldn’t help it – I was in too much agony. The fact that Charlie laid underneath me and caused me to arch my back in _multiple_ awful ways didn’t exactly help much, either.

Ah, what a foolish plan this turned out to be. So much for brooding!

I was about to give up and wait for the _excruciating_ pain to simply make me lose consciousness already, when Charlie took a rather strong hold on my face, let out a whimper of pain, and pulled me up, forcing me to look at her. 

“Okay – calm down Al – it’s okay! It’s okay – I’m here! I’m – I’m right _here.”_

In my faltering state-of-mind, I vaguely wondered why she always reminded me that she ‘was there’, whenever I had a moment of weakness. Was this truly such a crucial piece of information for me?

Yes. 

Yes it was. 

I needed to know.

And – she was indeed here – she was _right here_ with me, at last. I felt her – I _saw_ her. Her body felt welcoming and comforting, her beautiful golden hair spread over the undeserving floor underneath her like the rays of the sun. Her ivory face was as lovely and delicate as always, her dark eyes never reaching that pure, all-consuming blackness that one would expect from someone with eyes that lacked any color. However, Charlie’s eyes didn’t lack _light_ or _hope_ – and _that’s_ what made hers the most mysterious, most _gorgeous_ eyes of them all, and once more, I couldn’t help but helplessly stare into them.

The radio noises lessened somewhat upon seeing Charlie like that, seeing her smile affectionately up at me – and they faded to the background even more when she calmly slid her hands further upwards, wrapping them around the back of my head, right before she gently pressed my head down, my lips eventually meeting hers.

I froze up for a moment, but then all of my body – my muscles, my nerves, my thoughts and my back – relaxed, bit by bit.  
  
Oh her lips – I _worshipped_ those beloved lips of hers. 

As my eyes slowly closed themselves, my arms found a way to wind themselves around Charlie’s lower back. I answered her kisses, first with hesitance, but I ultimately grew more passionate, letting out delighted sighs in-between hasty puffs of air as I pulled her body flush against mine. I was getting light in the head because of the hypnotizing combination of her scent, taste and her torso’s tenderness, and although the pain was still _there,_ it changed into a mild annoyance somewhere in the back of my head.

And the kisses – they simply _kept on coming,_ for the longest time. They were soft, and kind, and wet, and I was too focused on Charlie’s loving embrace to think about my wounds – because let’s be fair here, the _euphoria_ of being kissed by my charming Princess _effortlessly_ shooed away all of my complicated thoughts and painful sensations.

Eventually, however, the kisses needed to come to a halt – and so they did. The noise had stopped as well, which was a relief. I lowered my face and nuzzled Charlie’s bare neck in a rather weak attempt to hide I was panting heavily, as the Princess herself breathed in and out quickly, unashamed to do so, grazing her moist lips against my own neck when she spoke up.

“I thought I had lost you.”

That made me snap my eyes open again and I – painstakingly – lifted my face to observe hers. My chest tightened when I noticed tears in Charlie’s eyes – tears she resolutely held back, by the looks of it. She wore a smile as well, though, and hiccupped a soft apology, her arms awkwardly dangling over my shoulders.

“But you returned. You came back to me. I’m so happy. Thank you. Thank you for – for forsaking Heaven.”

Both her lips as well as her hands trembled. I made sure to be as gentle as possible when I brought one of my hands up to her face and placed it against her cheeks, pressing another kiss to her willing mouth. Then I smiled down at her, still caressing her smooth skin.

“I never forsook Heaven.” 

“Oh god – _shuddup,”_ she blubbered, and while teardrops started to trickle down her warm cheeks at last, I kept pecking kisses on her face, wiping her hair from her forehead to kiss her there as well, over and over again, mumbling how much I loved her. Charlie couldn’t respond much to that, except for crying a little bit louder and continuously failing to get a decent grip on me with her injured hands, but that was alright.  
  
_Everything_ was alright now.   
  


  
**AaA  
  
**

  
As much as I thoroughly enjoyed mischievously rolling around on the dusty floor (a blatant lie, I _didn’t_ like rolling around on the floor in the _least_ I’ll have you know), I knew that Charlie and I had to get up at some point in time. 

This fact worried me for a moment, since the both of us had _several_ body parts that would cause us great pains if we strained them too much… but then I reminded myself I could order my ‘tentacles’ to get Charlie and me off the ground. 

Certainly, Charlie yelped and almost _strangled_ me in shock when the black vines of the abyss suddenly sprouted out of the floor and carried the two of us over to my bed, and yes, the ruthless _throbbing_ that immediately _tore_ through me at that was no fun either, but when we both were neatly seated next to each other on the mattress, I decided it had been worth it in the end anyway.

“I still need to thank you,” I told Charlie, as the black arms draped the sheets over us (and even endearingly pat Charlie on the head) before dissolving completely. “For retracting that burning spear from my back and saving my life.”

Charlie, funnily enough _instantly_ accepting she now was in bed with me and folding her arms on top of the sheets, grinned sheepishly. “Ah, well… I understood that I actually almost _killed_ you by pulling that… that _thing_ out.”

“It didn’t exactly feel _pleasant,_ no, and I _did_ lose quite a bit of blood,” I admitted, “but your doctors told me that that very same spear would have caused me even _greater_ damage if you had left it where it was. It was no ordinary spear, after all. It was a Heavenly weapon.”

“Yeah. I figured.” Charlie sighed and looked at her hands.

I frowned slightly at that and turned her face to the side, making her look at me.

“Charlie, I’m serious. The _only_ beings in Hell that are able to remove Heavenly weaponry with their bare hands _and_ get to keep their limbs afterwards, are you and your father. Your father absolutely _despises_ me, so if _you_ hadn’t taken that spear out, _nobody_ would have been able to save me from a rather gruesome and slow death.”

“O-oh,” Charlie muttered, as she realized the truth, and she swallowed. “God.” 

“So – thank you, my love.” I placed my hand over hers – carefully – and felt a wonderful warmth spread through my weary body when she beamed a bright, yet shy smile at me.  
  
“Anytime, darling.”

Oh my lord. She called me ‘darling’ again. I loved it when she called me darling, I loved it _so much_ that I couldn't _stand_ it. I firmly pressed my lips together and mentally forced the rush of blood that had shot up to my face back down with every bit of willpower I had.

Charlie still noticed, though, and giggled. Then she scooted closer to me. I could tell she wanted to hug me, but the sight of the many pillows supporting my back (and my somewhat distressed facial expression) made her change her mind. Therefore, she only sat excessively close to me and leaned her head onto my shoulder for a bit.

I let out a breath of relief and for a while, we sat there in comfortable silence. Simply enjoying each other’s desired company, almost as if we were at the library.

But I knew this was just the calm before the storm.

Now that we had been reunited, it wouldn’t be too long before the lingering questions would start to invade Charlie’s mind… and my sweetheart would want to know what _exactly_ had happened on that fateful day – the day the Angel Hakim and I had met.

I had prepared myself for this, though. Naturally, I had known this moment would happen, sooner or later.

I was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, I’ve not read ‘Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close’ yet. I _did_ get to see a part of the movie, but to be completely honest with you, I don’t remember that much about it anymore. Only the ending, that maybe even made me cry a little bit.  
> Like the last chapter, this book’s narrator is a young and clever boy, named Oskar Schell. His father, Thomas, died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and a year later, he is still trying to come to terms with the loss of his beloved dad. He stumbles upon a key in his father’s closet one day and he also manages to get a name that’s somehow connected to his father: Black. Oskar, who always played searching games with his father, is convinced both the key and the name will lead him to a final message Thomas left for him and he starts his own little expedition, meeting new friends and even unknown family members on the way. During his adventure, he gets disappointed a _lot_ – but he also grows as a person – and eventually not only finds closure, but also learns to accept the new man his mother is dating.  
> This book _wasn’t_ considered a masterpiece – it’s often described as a sentimental drama that got more attention than it deserved. It still was a bestseller though – and of course, it got removed at some schools, because of its usage of ‘lewd and possibly offensive materials’. Whatever _that’s_ supposed to mean.


	55. Death and the Maiden (Ariel Dorfman)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor finally explains to Charlie what happened to him.

Other than the occasional white noises, caused by my injured back, it was quiet in my bedroom at first.

Charlie didn’t say much. 

She seemed to positively _cherish_ our time together, that dear girl, even when it involved simply sitting in bed without doing much else. I appreciated this quality time as well and I was grateful my boredom had finally been driven away. I could never get tired of feeling Charlie’s warm skin below mine and I gently drew little circles on the back of her hand.

However, I kept a close eye on her features. I watched them change, from happy bliss to a more neutral expression to, finally, an unspoken pensiveness, that kept lingering on her face.

I understood it was time.

And yes – Charlie’s questioning eyes suddenly met mine, and she cleared her throat.

“Al?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“What…” she frowned and seemed to think about her words, “…what exactly _happened,_ Al? When you met up with the Angel Hakim, I mean.”

I chuckled. “Well I’m glad you specified your question – I wouldn’t know what you meant otherwise!”

“Tell me,” Charlie said, unfazed. “Tell me what happened in the park. Tell me what made you return to the hotel a day later, bleeding heavily, with a Heavenly weapon stuck in your back.”

I grinned. She didn’t often get that serious, fierce look in her normally so compassionate and pristine eyes. It suited her quite well, yes, very well indeed! 

I took a deep breath.

“Well… I went to Hyde Park, as I had promised you. I didn’t harm anybody on my way there, as I had promised you, and I spoke with Hakim, as I had promised you. While talking to the Angel, I realized there was a… _slight_ misunderstanding. You see, as we were talking, Hakim told me that if I failed to pass his test… he would execute me.”

Both Charlie’s jaw and her no-nonsense display dropped. “You mean he – he would _kill_ you if you didn’t pass?” 

I nodded. “Yes – I believe it had got something to do with wasting his precious time? Anyhow – there was no room for questions. Hakim paid no mind to my repeated statement that I didn’t intend to go up to Heaven, never intended to. It was no use. He simply said I _needed_ to do his Heavenly Examination and after that, he would pass judgement on my fate. _Ha!_ He barely listened to a word I said, that _fiend.”_

“So…” Charlie reasoned, “…you underwent the test and… _failed,_ right?” 

“No. I _refused_ to do the Examination.” I snorted when I noticed Charlie’s startled face. “Oh Charlie – of _course_ I refused! You and I both know I wasn’t ready for redemption – not by a _landslide!_ Why risk wasting that Angel’s time by undergoing this silly Examination if I could also just tell him outright I wasn’t going to participate in his cruel little game?”

Charlie gave the smallest of nods. “And… wh-what happened then?”

“As you can imagine, Hakim wasn’t too _pleased_ to hear that.” I grimaced at remembering the Angel’s violent response when I, presumably, let my guard down. “He didn’t say a word but simply narrowed his fiery eyes at me, before flying up into the sky and letting a deadly rain of spears fall down on me. I fruitlessly tried to shield myself from the angelic weapons, but it was no use: I felt the most _indescribable_ pains, pains I had legitimately _never_ felt before – not in my whole life, nor in this afterlife. Some of the deadly spears scraped my arms and legs, while others landed into my back, piercing my flesh with sickening _thwacks._ It momentarily paralyzed me and it inadvertently hurled me onto the ground – his attack was so overwhelmingly _brutal,_ it took me by surprise, really! Since consciousness was rapidly slipping away from me during that attack, I was very fortunate to still have my black arms – those vines that put us in bed just now – and with those, I was able to swat Hakim out of the sky.” 

“You _swat_ an _Angel_ out of the sky?” Charlie stammered.

“Like a lowly fly, my dear. It was **_extremely_** satisfactory to smack that high and mighty **_fool_** to the ground. Oh! You should have _**heard**_ the sound of the air that I forcibly **_choked_** out of his undeserving, feeble lungs right after. It was **_very_** entertaining – oh ho ho, yes, very entertaining _**indeed!**_ The way he struggled – the way he **_screamed_** as I attacked him, **_throttled_** him, almost **_wrung_** his bulging eyeballs out of their sockets. The way he **_foamed_** at the mouth as I gripped and relentlessly **_struck_** him against the rock-hard ground, over and over again, until he was nothing more but a pitiful, purple-faced, broken, wheezing **_pulp_** of the so-called ‘superbeing’ he used to be!”

For a moment, I let this wonderful memory get the better of me and I _laughed_ maniacally – but upon seeing Charlie’s less-than-amused face, with the furrowed eyebrows and the disappointed, downwards curve of her lips, my laughter ended as sudden as it had begun.

I coughed, gave Charlie an earnest look and kept my facial muscles in check when I told her the following words.

“I didn’t kill him, my love.”

Charlie’s wrinkle in her forehead deepened. Knowing she had just witnessed my rather… well, _enthusiastic_ cackling, I wasn’t surprised she had her doubts. 

“How do I know you’re not lying?” she asked. “I can’t rely on listening to the static in your voice, since you’re heavily injured.”

“I’m aware of that. You will just have to believe me. I _swear_ I didn’t kill him, Charlie.” I gave her hand the smallest of squeezes. “I _promised_ you I would spare him, after all. So in the end, I did.” 

I smiled coolly as I watched Charlie struggling with her own thoughts, whether she should believe me or not. I didn’t push it. I refused to resort to begging, pleading or outright _demanding_ her to please believe me – as I, one, was aware that _that_ wouldn’t work on Charlie anyway, two, didn’t want to hurt my _own_ pride, and three, knew that what I said was _true._

The Angel Hakim was still alive.

It’s as simple as that.

Charlie groaned, then she sighed, and finally, she awkwardly rubbed her temples with her wrists – an _illegally_ adorable thing to do, for goodness’ sake, she looked like an adorable little _kitten,_ and if I wasn’t in such an abysmal state, I most likely would have kindly asked her if I could pounce on her for that.

“Okay…” Charlie started again, effectively catching my attention, “…considering you… speak the truth and you didn’t kill the Angel… what happened next?”

An easy one. I felt my smile growing wider.

“After I had reminded myself I wasn’t supposed to put an end to him, you can imagine Hakim wasn’t in the best of shape. Neither was _I_ , in all fairness: my tentacle arms had done most of the fight after all, and now that Hakim was gasping and lying in a bloody puddle in front of me, the spears in my back started to act up – in the worst kind of way. I felt my strength was leaving my body in a nauseously-fast tempo and I knew we needed to get out of the (thankfully unusually empty) Hyde Park, before other sinners would find out what had happened and would take advantage of the situation.” 

_“‘We’?”_ Charlie repeated.

“Yes yes, _we_ – Hakim and I!” I gave her an amused grin. “If I had left Hakim in the park, he would have died anyway and I would have indirectly broken my promise to you, now, wouldn’t I?”

Charlie nodded, silently signaling me to keep on talking.

“So I collected the Angel in my black, snakelike arms and started… limping out of the park. What a _dreadful_ place that Hyde Park is, by the bye. Only dead trees, brown plants, an imposing bridge, some broken benches and a sad, dried up lake, as far as I could see. No wonder it was named after such a flawed character like Mr. Hyde!”

“Okay – so you… left the park. You didn’t return to the hotel though,” Charlie, not allowing herself to get distracted by my random ramblings, pointedly said. “Where were you heading to?”

“I was too weak to go to the hotel, my love. I – don’t think I would have made it if I tried. So instead, I went to a dear acquaintance of mine who lives close to the park. I knew her establishment probably wasn’t suited to take care of both me and Hakim and I also suspected she wouldn’t exactly be _thrilled_ to have the two of us come over for some first aid… but the woman _is_ pretty fond of me, so she couldn’t say ‘no’ to me when Hakim and I entered her business and accidentally bled on her gorgeous tiles, and—”

“Wait – you have _another_ female friend?” Charlie interrupted me, charmingly confused and surprised.

I kept silent for a second, my eyes’ gaze momentarily flicking upwards, to the ceiling.

Then I simply nodded.

“I do.”

“Alright.” She looked away from me, puffing her cheeks. 

I chuckled and reached over to her, pinching one of said irresistible cheeks.

“Does that annoy you, hmmm? Well rest assured, my darling: I never had the _smallest_ bit of interest in _her,_ either.”

Charlie glared at me and her face reddened, but she didn’t slap my hand away. In fact, she looked a bit ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t feel this irritated with you, having female friends. I… had a bad experience with a male lover in the past, who… well… i-in any case, I just wished you had told me.”

This was news to me – so I instantly stopped teasing her and instead gave her cheek a soothing caress. “That’s alright, my dear. I can imagine your frustration. I _should_ have told you. My apologies, I didn’t realize it was important for you to know just how many women I sometimes visit – in the _very platonic_ sense of the word, if I may add.”

“Uhm—”

“Just two. Mimzy and Rosie. That’s all.” I snickered, endeared when I saw her face still wore a conflicted expression. “Oh _my._ Listen darling, if it bothers you _that_ much and you don’t want me to visit them anymore, just say the word – I’ll gladly toss them both aside for you, right away!”

Charlie gasped in shock – and with that, her frowny face thankfully loosened up. “Al – no, don’t _ditch_ them, that’s _awful!”_

“Well it’s the truth,” I bluntly said.

My sweet Princess smiled faintly at that. “I know. As horrible as it is – I know. Thanks Al. I… guess.”

Then she got a discomfortingly solemn look again, cleared her throat once more and finally, took my hand off of her face, to my huge disappointment. I understood why she did that, though: she was still asking me questions, she needed to keep her mind sharp – and so did I. So I obediently withdrew my hand and waited for her to continue with an encouraging smile.

“A-anyway, what – what did that associate of yours do?” she wanted to know. 

“Why, she helped me and Hakim out, of course.” I tried moving my stiff back a bit – but regretted that action when it was rewarded with a flash of pain, ripping through my flesh once more. “She – ouch – she instantly began applying first aid, first to try and safe the Angel’s life, then to take care of me. I was fortuitous enough that most of the Angel’s spears had fallen out of my back during my little stroll to my dear ally’s residence, so when she told me she refused to touch that spear since it would burn her hands, I didn’t insist. I already was more than happy she was willing to at least clean and dress up my other wounds a little bit.”

“Why didn’t she call a doctor?” Charlie asked. 

“My dear, you know most doctors here in Hell are quite crooked sinners, right? Do you _honestly_ believe they would try to save an _Angel,_ a Heavenly being that annually tries to _murder_ all of us, just to make Hell a bit less crowded? I don’t think so.”

“Then what about—” 

I knew what she was going to ask, so I cut her off. _“Me?_ Well. They probably wouldn’t be too keen on saving _me,_ either. I’m the fearful and unpredictable Radio Demon that managed to topple several overlords of Hell on a mere _whim_ and even broadcast my carnage on the radio, just to _spite_ you all! Ho ho – no no no, my love, I believe they would have done their _very_ best to wipe out both me _and_ Hakim, instead of saving us. You can count on _that!”_

Charlie hummed to that, blinking with her big and beautiful eyes. “You stayed over at her place for the night. I guess you did so that you could keep an eye on Hakim’s condition?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “And by the time morning had broken, Hakim’s life no longer was in grave danger. So when my acquaintance said I should leave and get back to the hotel before Hakim would start to wake up, I agreed with her. But _before_ I left, I—”

Now it was Charlie who interrupted me. “Sorry, Al, but I find it hard to believe your friend would keep an _Angel_ in her care. I mean, as her _friend,_ don’t you think you left her in a pretty dangerous and vulnerable position? What if Hakim would attack _her?_ What if he tried to look for you _anyway?”_

“You didn’t let me finish, darling.” I smiled smugly at her. “Because this is the part where your _father_ comes in.”

“D-dad?” Charlie said. “You mean you… contacted my _father_ while at your friend’s place?”

“Well something just didn’t seem _right,_ don’t you agree? After all, the instructions he wrote to us in that letter didn’t quite add up to the information I later heard from Hakim. So after both me and Hakim had gotten patched up a bit, I gave dear Lucifer a call. I told him about the situation and if he, perhaps, had… anything to do with it.”

Even though I didn’t have a very high opinion on both _hers as_ well as my very _own_ father (or fathers in general), I still felt bad for Charlie when I saw realization dawn upon her. My lovely Princess cared deeply about her horrible parents, so she probably hadn’t even thought about the possibility that they could have wanted to assassinate me. 

“You father was _flabbergasted_ though,” I quickly carried on, trying to reassure her before her eyes grew too clouded with rage and disappointment. “He was just as surprised as I was and _swore_ to me he had no idea Hakim had been planning to murder me the second the Examination didn’t go as planned.”

“ **Fucking _bullshit_** _,”_ Charlie growled. 

Her voice became – different, _strange,_ and her appearance started to change as well. Out of nowhere, large, dark, crimson horns began to emerge from her blonde, charming hairdo and her eyes’ sclera became as red as blood. Was _this_ her demonic form? Was this shapeshifting wonder in front of me the undeniable proof that Lilith’s genes, no matter how little of them her daughter had inherited, had some control over Charlie, when she let her white-hot anger take over control?

Ha ha! My oh my, how utterly _fascinating!_

I didn’t like it. 

I patted her clenched hand to calm her down. “Naturally, I, _too,_ found it hard to believe Lucifer… we don’t get along that well anymore, ever since you and I got into a romantic relationship. But _then_ your old man offered to take care of the Angel: as soon as I had left my friend’s business, he’d stop by, have a stern word with the Angel Hakim, and then he’d send him back to Heaven, probably along with the urgent message that his brothers should give their Angels a better _training_ before sending them down to Hell to collect redeemed souls.”

Charlie scoffed. “And you **_believed_** that.”

I shrugged – and flinched right after, since shrugging hurt. 

“If your parents had _really_ wanted to kill me, you dad could have just come on over to my friend’s place and finish me off right then and there, now, couldn’t he? I was terribly wounded, after all… I wouldn’t have been able to put up much of a fight against Hell’s most powerful being.” 

To my relief, Charlie’s hateful gaze turned into a more puzzled one. At the same time, her horns sunk back into her skull as well and her eyes got their original hue back, too. Delighted, I once more gripped her hand. Yes – _yes._ As interesting as that show just now had been – her angelic, default look was a better one for her.  
  
Charlie gulped. “That’s… that’s true. He’d kill you in an instant if he had wanted to. And then he’d kill – what’s her name – Mimzy as well. I don’t think my dad would have left any witnesses on the scene. He would have done everything to hide his… his _godawful_ intentions.”

“Besides…” I continued, gesturing to the bandages that had been skillfully wrapped around my upper body, “…would your parents have send you medical professionals, otherwise? The _best doctors of Hell_ , even?”

“Mom _did_ say she’d lob off the Royal Doctors’ heads if they failed to save you,” Charlie admitted – and I was glad to note her voice, too, sounded a lot less foreboding now. “But they… they probably did that for _my_ sake, though. Not for _yours._ I – I made a pretty embarrassing scene when I called mom and begged her for help.”

“That only proves that their love for you is greater than their hatred for me,” I decisively said. “Thank goodness for _that!”_

“I suppose…”

Charlie gnawed on her lower lip again, which she did a lot when she wasn’t sure about something (or when she was sexually aroused, but let’s not go into that direction now). I gingerly snuck an arm around her petite physique and gave her side a gentle touch, moving my hand up and down.

“I understand if you’re still having doubts, my darling – I don’t blame you, honestly. You know what – you should call your mother and father later to ask them if my story is true. Would that put your mind at ease?”

Charlie leaned more into my embrace and snorted, closing her eyes for a second. “I don’t know – maybe a little bit? I might go do that later, then…”

“You should,” I agreed.

Charlie’s eyes opened up and she looked at me once again – but her dark orbs were warm and affectionate now, just like the hesitant smile that reappeared around her lips. We both felt it: we were nearing the ending of this interrogation and things were looking up. Thank _god._

“So you left the Angel at that place, walked back to the hotel – and that’s it. Right?” Charlie asked.

I nodded, curling my hand around her curved waist. “Yes. My wounds opened up as I made my way back to the hotel though, so I made sure my shadow would mop up all the blood I lost in the meantime. It’s convenient nor healthy for an evil overlord to walk around Hell while leaking essential fluids, after all!”

“And then you came back.”

“And then I came back, yes.” 

“I’m so glad you did.” 

“As am I, my dear.”

Charlie sighed and slumped down until she was lying, curled up in an utmost endearing way. She then cautiously wrapped her arms around my waist, paying extra attention to avoid touching the dressing. Unfortunately, it hurt nevertheless – the radio noises had been persistently ringing through the air this whole time, to be fair – but I endured the stinging feeling and let her hold me, stroking her blonde hair as I exhaled softly.

“Do you… have any questions left for me, Charlie?” I wanted to know.

“Yes, of _course,_ but…” she mumbled, “…those don’t seem all that important. For _now,_ at least.”

“You can ask me more whenever you like to, my love.”

“Okay. Thanks, Al.”

I settled down more into the pile of pillows behind me. This change of position seemed to be a welcoming one, since the pain got numbed by the cushioning materials resting against my back. It was a surprisingly _comfortable_ position, even – I could feel my eyelids growing heavy.

“It seems like your pointed questions have exhausted me more than I thought they would, my love.”

Charlie stirred a bit, as if she attempted to get up. “Oh – should I – should I leave and let you sleep?”

I simply pressed her figure back down and shook my head. “No. You should stay and let me sleep. Or _try_ to sleep, at the very last.”

“You won’t mind?”

“Charlie, you saved my _life._ You love me – you _still_ love me, even though I have mostly reverted to the demonic form I was before I started visiting your library. Why, at this point, I’m fairly sure you could practically _lynch me_ and I _still_ wouldn’t mind.”

Charlie chuckled, flattered. “D-don’t be silly, Al…”

She sounded tired as well. The last couple of days must have been pretty difficult for her, I suddenly realized. While I was away, not _once_ did it cross my mind that my lover would undergo several stressful hours before she would be able to be with me again. This was bad, yes, but… well, knowing that there is somebody out there, in this whole forsaken place, who would actively _miss_ me, wholeheartedly miss every single, evil piece of me – it was a strangely _alien_ feeling for me still.

I wasn’t used to… being missed. To being _wanted._

I made a mental note of that – from now on, I should make sure not to accidentally hurt Charlie with my own inexperience on that front.

“I love you,” Charlie muttered, already drifting off, “please… _please_ don’t leave me anymore.” 

These heartfelt, lovingly mumbled words, spoken to me by the beautiful person that had desperately clasped herself to me, struck me like a smack in the face – and I needed a bit of time to recollect myself.

“I – I love you, too.” I swallowed something thick. “And I won’t leave.”

I gripped her drowsy body firmly and I had to struggle with all of my might to bite back a sob.

“ _I_ won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Death and the Maiden’ isn’t an actual _book_ -book, it’s a play. Still, it’s a play that reads like a suspenseful detective!  
> The story is about Paulina, a former political prisoner who got repeatedly raped by her captors during her imprisonment. During those horrific rapes, the woman was forced to listen to a famous composition by Schubert, better known as – yes – Death and the Maiden. A couple of years later, Paulina’s husband Gerardo stumbles upon a stranger who helps him remove a flat tire – and when this mysterious Roberto drives Gerardo home, Paulina recognizes the voice of Roberto as the voice of one of her former rapists and takes him captive in order to put him on trial and wring a confession out of him. However, Gerardo doesn’t believe the man is one of the heinous people who assaulted Paulina all those years ago and acts as Roberto’s lawyer, as his wife interrogates him. In the end, it does not become clear whether Roberto really _was_ one of the men who committed the atrocious rape… or that Paulina has simply gone mad.  
> At a certain high school, a lot of students were supposed to read this play – but when parents started to complain the book was ‘way too sexual’, it was removed from the school’s reading list.


	56. Fear of Flying (Erica Jong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Alastor spend some time together in the library. Alastor almost asks Charlie something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out [this](https://twitter.com/mikkiaru__/status/1259902619704651776) beautifully redrawn shoujo-scene the crazily talented [Mika](https://twitter.com/mikkiaru__) made, based on chapter 55!^^  
> Isn’t it just lovely? Gah, I just can't stop gushing over it! Thanks again, Mika! 8DDDD

Well – that was it, then.

I smiled, closed the book with a soft thud and put it next to me. Then I stretched out my arms in front of me, letting out a weird, but satisfied little groaning sound of some sorts.

It had been a nice book – and even one with a happy ending, too! I was glad I had read it, really. It had been a while I had finished a story with such a nice, rounded and closed ending. After all, most of the books that Al had recommended me over the last couple of months had been outright _depressing,_ having sad endings in which people died or went mad. Sure, I actually never finished _Pride and Prejudice_ since Al had spoiled the ending to me, so I guess… yeah, _The Girl Who Saved the King_ of Sweden was like the _only_ book I had read in a while with a happy ending.  
  
Thank god for _that._ I liked stories with happy endings. I preferred _those_ over unhappy ones… although I had to admit that those stories had left quite the impression on me as well. I felt like I had learned things from them, and if it hadn’t been for Al, I had never even _thought_ of trying out a book out of my comfort zone.

What was the next book he was going to make me read?

I glanced to Alastor, who was sitting next to me on the chaise longue. His legs folded over one another and one of his arms quasi nonchalantly flung around me. The gentle weight of his arm resting on my shoulder made me enjoy being here with him even _more_ and I giddily rubbed my cheeks to try and calm down the happiness that swelled up inside of me. For Pete’s _sake,_ Charlie, you and Al have been dating for… what was it now, multiple months? And yet, you _still_ get all giggly and wobbly when you remind yourself you two are a couple! _Jesus,_ girl. Grow up already!

I chuckled, a little bit embarrassed about myself, and quietly moved closer to Al. I could tell by the look of his mismatched eyes, darting over the pages of his book quickly, that he was still reading – but I could also tell he, too, was almost finished with his book. There were just a few flimsy pages left, as far as I could tell. I just had to wait a little bit longer and then we could pick out some new books. 

So I simply pulled up my legs, leaned my head against his shoulder and waited. As soon as my body touched his, I felt that familiar little jolt of shock go through him, immediately followed by him grabbing my upper arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Almost done, my love.”

“That’s alright – you take your time, darling.” 

He froze up a bit once again and mumbled something I couldn’t quite catch. I laughed softly, nuzzling his shoulder some more. 

I liked that I still managed to catch him off guard every now and then. He was adapting, though. Nowadays, he recovered fast – and perhaps he responded to my requests for some affection even _faster._ For instance, he always _instantly_ answered sudden kisses or unexpected touches, even when he most likely was still internally trying to process what had even happened. 

It was cute! It was very cute and I was delighted that he tried so hard for me. It made me love him even more.

Even though I suspected he was hiding something from me.

I mean… he had (almost completely) changed back into his demonic self for a reason, right? And that reason wasn’t plucking daisies in a flower field or helping old demonic ladies cross the streets.

Al had told me him getting his damned demonic overlord form back was Heaven’s ‘punishment’ (yes he had even happily made _air quotation marks_ while telling me this) for ‘tricking’ Hakim and almost beating him to death – and sure, that – that sounded like a very logical and understandable reason why he had reverted into his deer demon self, but…

I thought there was _more_ to it. I didn’t know why. It was just this _feeling_ I had, over the last few weeks.

Since I felt perfectly happy otherwise, I simply tried to not think about it too much.  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
The past few week had been pretty uneventful, by the way. They had come and gone by so… _soundlessly_ that I had been barely aware of the fact so much time had already passed in the first place. 

The Royal Doctors had stayed over at the hotel until Alastor was fully recovered. Well, _fully_ – I later found out Al now had five brand-new, red X-scars on his back – four relatively mediocre-sized ones and one _terrifyingly_ big one, that apparently acted up a bit on rainy days.

However, when we started sleeping together again, our bodies moving against one another cautiously, Al had breathlessly whispered to me during one night I was allowed to touch his new scars, if I wanted to. 

I was allowed to touch everything.

And I _could_ touch everything, because like Dr. Hubermann had nagged at me time and time again, my hands had healed – and they had healed quicker than I had expected, in the end. Other than Al, who now had to deal with occasional stings of pain to remind him of his run-in with an Angel, removing the Heavenly spear out of Alastor’s body hadn’t left any permanent scars or pain on _me…_ all thanks to my father’s genes.

Yes. My _father,_ huh.

Let’s talk about my father.

I had called my father (yes, _specifically_ my father) as soon as my hands had started feeling less sensitive. I needed to check Alastor’s story… and I needed to pay _real_ close attention to the way dad’s voice would react to Al’s version of the story – and my own suspicions. I knew that my dad was a terrific liar… but only if you didn’t catch him off guard. If you surprised him with a question or allegation he didn’t see coming, he’d always slip up and make mistakes, his tone of voice getting that rare, high-pitched shriek my mother adored so much. 

But my father confirmed Alastor’s story was _right._ His voice didn’t sound weird or squeaky at all – on the contrary, dad sounded calm and collected, boasting at me how much I must undoubtedly love my ‘awesome pops’ now, now that he had come to help ‘his sweet daughter’s bitch-ass trashcan lover’ out – and I had just… rolled with my eyes and hung up after that.

Cool story, dad.

A _very_ cool story.

It was _so_ cool that of _course_ my dad had to agree with it. 

I wasn’t stupid. Al’s tale of my father saving the day by sending Hakim back to Heaven was a comfortably _heroic_ one. Going against Alastor’s version of how the events took place that fateful day was like admitting he _indeed_ had been planning to trick and kill Al all along – and my dad was a cunning man who wasn’t going to fall for _that_ trick anytime soon. 

However, while I kept suspecting my parents had something to do with the whole Angel Hakim-fiasco, I… just couldn’t figure out some important… plot holes. 

Like… if they had _really_ wanted to murder Alastor, why didn’t my mother, the demonic, unfeeling, stoic and proud succubus, simply _lie_ to me when I called her up and begged her for help? Why didn’t she just say that the doctors were out that day, for example? My mother was an even better liar than my father and I knew from experience her – maybe unintentionally hurtful – obliviousness had caused me more pain than I would ever like to believe. 

I had thought about it for a while, but… no, unless my mother had _suddenly_ decided to help _me_ out instead of my dad, I couldn’t think of a single reason why she would stop playing along with my father’s scheme. 

And my mom would _never_ pick me over my dad. 

I _knew_ her. Just – look at how many times I failed to get her to talk to me on the _phone._ It was a damn _struggle,_ for god’s sake. I loved her, I-I did, and I respected her, but… I knew what kind of person she was.

B-but anyway… 

…my mother _did_ instruct the Royal Doctors to go help me out, in the end. So the only logical conclusion was that there _hadn’t_ been a scheme made up by my father. Right?

Besides, apart from my mom sending me help instead of letting Al perish, there was also Alastor _himself,_ who kept insisting my parents had, in fact, _immensely helped him_ instead of… well, lured him into a sick, bizarre deathtrap.

And I… I didn’t think Alastor was _lying_ to me, really? After all, his buzzing radio static didn’t disturb his voice when he had told me this. It _had_ made quite some noise when I had interrogated him in his bedroom that one day, but – he was _constantly_ having that white noise going on back then, so I didn’t know if he had actually been telling me lies.

Ultimately, I just grew _tired_ of making a fuss about something _nobody_ seemed to worry about anymore and I came to begrudgingly accept that this was something I _would_ find out… but at a later point in time. For now, I was just going to stick a pin in it and put it in a rarely-visited room, somewhere in my inner mind.

I’d look it up later, though. Eventually.  
  


  
**CcC  
  
**

  
“Done,” Alastor all of a sudden said, rapidly shutting his book and beaming me a smile that was so darn _dazzling, handsome_ and _charming_ that I instantly forgot my former thoughts and could actually _feel_ his smile _sizzling_ through me, even in the deepest pockets of my pants. 

He reached out a hand towards me and tucked some hair behind my ear, still wearing that tender smile. 

“My lovely Charlie, that book was… well…”

“Y-yes?” I stammered.

“…absolutely _atrocious,_ haha! Now those are three weeks of my afterlife that I will _never_ get back again! What a _waste!”_

My face, that had slowly started to heat up, now _shriveled_ up and instantly cooled down because of at that brutal _smack-down_. 

“Seriously, Al? _This_ again?” 

He pretended he didn’t hear me and contently collected both of our books. “My goodness, Charlie, I feel _violated_ for having read this piece of _filth._ I might need a shower. _The Discovery of Heaven_ – ha! Who in the world or in Hell would _ever_ make up a story with such an _arrogantly_ ambitious title and _still_ think it would be worthy of one’s time!”

“The _writer_ did,” I huffed, not knowing what else to say – but didn’t protest when Alastor took my hand in his and pulled me from the chaise longue.

“Ah – I jest, my love.” He grinned, pressed me against him and pecked a cheeky kiss to my temple. “I’ll admit that the book _did_ manage to entertain me – albeit in ways the author probably hadn’t wanted to. Now! Let’s put this horrible thing back on its rightfully dusty place and forget about its existence altogether as we go look for some new, _better_ books to read.”

“Alright,” I said, grasping his hand a bit firmer while glancing at the clock on the wall, “but keep in mind we only have half an hour left, Al. We’re getting a new client right after break time is over and as the hotel’s founder and manager, I need to welcome them.”

As I swiftly started walking towards the bookcases, pretty much dragging Al behind me as I made my way through the high, wooden keepers of stories and literature, I heard him chuckle.

I shot him a look over my shoulder and wanted to ask him what was the matter, but he was a _lot_ closer to me than I had thought – and I uttered a soft ‘eep’ when he easily pushed me against a row of books about folklore and myths, trapping me in-between his arms. The books in his hand clattered to the floor.

“A-Al?” I said, looking up at him.

“Did I ever tell you how unbelievable _proud_ of you I am, Charlie?” Alastor said, his face having an unusual affectionate expression. “How _impressed_ I am by everything you do? Just _look_ at you, a charming demon belle and a beautiful Princess, successfully taking her own path in life. You play by your own rules. You’re managing a hotel, organizing classes and therapy sessions, bringing in new tenants and yet, you _still_ find time to sit down and read a good book – with me. You make it look so _easy,_ too, almost like you put no effort in it at all, while I know _very_ well just how hard you work – how hard you try. It’s so admirable – and I can’t applaud you enough for that.”

I felt my entire body light up at that compliment and I grinned widely, feeling my cheeks bloom in response. “T-thank you, Al! I’m… you know, just… trying my best, ha ha. Making the best of it. B-but I’m happy my boyfriend’s proud of me!”

Al raised a brow and shook his head, as if he didn’t agree with my _extremely embarrassing_ _(boyfriend,_ Charlie? The guy’s _ancient,_ and so are _you,_ you are _both_ relics of the past, and yet you still _flubbed_ and called him your _boyfriend,_ oh my _god)_ reply.

“No. You don’t understand, Charlie. I am not exaggerating when I say you are the most outstanding person I have ever met. You are the absolute _best._ I can’t fathom someone like you even _exists._ I can hardly even believe how fortunate I am to be able to hold you like this., to have your permission to call you mine.” Alastor paused for a moment, cupped my face in his hands and leaned in for a soft, chaste kiss I quietly answered. Then he pulled back and got this thoughtful, serious look in his eyes, gently caressing my face for a little while longer while he started to mutter things I almost didn’t hear.

“I should probably… but no. No. No no no no. That would be foolish. Too painful. But still – you _are_ one of the single people that I have _ever_ felt _this much_ for… perhaps I should ask you to…”

“Y-yes?” I stuttered softly, my head overflowing with fluffy clouds because of all the nice things that were happening to me right now as I felt my heartrate picking up speed.

Oh god.

Oh god oh god _oh god,_ was he thinking about thinking to ask me what I was thinking he was thinking about thinking to ask me?

Alastor all of a sudden let go of me, like he had touched something he shouldn’t, and shook his head once more.

“Please excuse my strange behavior, Charlie. It’s – you… simply seem to meet all of my standards. And I seem to meet all of yours. And I only _now_ realized.”

“You _do_ meet all of mine.” I blurted it out before I could stop myself. “You meet all of mine – and then some.”

He stared at me. “And then some?”

I shrugged and smiled tenderly at him. “I just love you so much, darling.”

Alastor brought a hand up to his face and clutched it, almost _clawed_ at it, his way of breathing became strangely forced. He gave a chaotic, stressful impression, almost like he was about to get yet another panic attack, and I quickly snapped out of my giddy mood to try and comfort him, even though I _really_ didn’t know why him realizing he loved me more than he had expected gave him such a fright.

Oh well – a typical case of Al getting overwhelmed with feelings, I suppose. 

“It’s okay, Al,” I said, letting out a resigned sigh and patting him on the back. “Everything’s alright.”

Al still didn’t really react to that (except for his radio audience, which was loudly _boo-_ ing at him for some reason), so I thought hard about what I could do – or say – to make him feel a bit more at ease. Maybe talking about something random would help?

“Hey, Al – you know?” I cheerfully said, trying to get eye contact with him again. “When you were away to meet up with the Angel, the internet totally crashed and we suddenly couldn’t make or receive any phone calls anymore, either! How about _that_!”

What the _hell,_ Charlie – why would he care about _that?_

However, much to my surprise, this subject seemed to _interest_ Alastor, as he finally decided to blink – and talk. At the same time, even.

“No internet or phone calls, you say?”

“No.” I stopped for a second. “I… thought that was because of _you,_ in all honesty. I don’t even know _why_ I thought it was your doing, since you were… um, busy getting speared and beating up Hakim and such. B-but in my defense, it had been _such_ a weird day! I mean, Angel Dust and Husk were acting very strange as well. Sure, when I later got to sit down and talk to them, I found out what the actual reasons behind their behavior were – and no, it didn’t seem _too_ strange anymore _then,_ but still!” 

“What _were_ their reasons, then?” Alastor wanted to know, an amused little smile forming on his face. 

I thought it was pretty endearing how stupid little random stories like this one could effectively distract Al from his own emotions. So while he picked up the books from the ground, I kept on talking.

“Oh, you know – Angel Dust was having an argument with some former hacker-slash-mechanic he slept around with. A really _ugly_ guy, if I have to believe Angel, truly _disgusting,_ Angel didn’t want to be seen in public with him – but he was great in bed, apparently, so he kept him around. However, the poor guy found out what Angel _really_ thought about him on the day you left, and, in an act of revenge, _completely_ messed up our servers/modems/whatevers and phone reception. Angel understood what was going on right away, but was too embarrassed to come clean to me about it – and he’s still too wary of his former boss to leave the hotel and look up his ex-lover. So he went to Husk, who knew the hacker mechanic as well. Husk, however, was guarding the library and didn’t have time to help Angel out, unless Angel Dust would take over his duty… which Angel Dust did.”

Al, who had put the books back and was now comfortable enough to even actively comment on the story, let out a short, yet hard laugh. “My, what a _ridiculously_ complicated story! I’m astonished – and yet strangely enthralled. _Do_ carry on!”

As we walked past the high and colorful bookcases, I gently bumped my shoulder into Alastor’s.

“Before I do that… you asked Husk to guard the library for you, didn’t you?”

I could tell this question took Al by surprise and for a moment, he hesitated to answer me. Then, he nodded slowly. 

“Yes. That’s right. Did he tell you why?”

“Precautionary measures, Husk said,” I replied. 

An sudden, completely unrelated idea popped up in my head and I walked straight to a bookcase that had nothing but books with fairies and elves pictured on their spines. 

“You were worried you’d redeem yourself even _more_ before you would be able to meet up with Hakim – and just to increase your chances of Hakim rejecting you, you let Husk march around the library, prohibiting anybody but me from entering the room.”

Al hummed, following me. “I _did_ try to increase my chances that way, yes. And then? Was the problem with the… internets and such eventually solved?”

I laughed weakly as I crouched in front of the bookcase and took out a thick, large and heavy brown book, one of which I knew it had a rather vibrant, red bookmark cord in it.

“Well – _oof_ – Husk returned to the hotel before dinner and consequentially, Angel had a… ahem… _visitor_ later that night. Furthermore, I was able to call mom the very next day, so I guess that answers your question?”

“Amazing,” Alastor muttered with a smirk, folding his hands on his back and cocking his head to the side in curiosity as he saw me struggling with the _monstrous_ book. “And with amazing, I mean downright _insane!_ That Angel Dust! That Husker! They never cease to blow me away with their tall tales and entertaining misadventures, haha! Also, do you need some help with that book, my love? It _is_ a book, right?”

I snorted, since yes, the piece of writing I was trying to get off the floor was much, much bigger than the average novel, even than the average _thick_ novel, so I understood his confusion. 

“Yes – and if you could lend me a hand, that would be wonderful.” I wiped my forehead and watched how Al’s shadowy tentacles lifted the humongous literary work up without doing as much as breaking a sweat seconds later… as far as tentacles could sweat, that is.

“My word, but you could _kill people_ with this _mammoth,”_ Alastor thought out loud, observing the floating book with a newfound respect. It was almost kind of cute. 

“Yeah, I’m sure – but let’s not do _that,_ shall we?” Chuckling, I walked over to Al, took one of his claw-shaped hands and gave it a timid tug, smiling up to him. “Now – let’s return to the couch, Al.”

Dumbfounded, he looked from the book, over to me, over to the other bookcases around us, before answering.

“I admire your enthusiasm – especially considering the _size_ of that papery collection of pages and glue and what-not – but aren’t you forgetting something, Charlie dear? For starters, I didn’t pick a book out yet.”

“No – _I_ did,” I said, winking mischievously and pointing at the massive book above us. “I picked out a book for the _two_ of us. Come on – we don’t have much time left and I want to read at least _one_ fairytale!”

Finally Alastor understood – and instead of asking more, he chortled, weaved his fingers together with mine tightly and walked us back to the chaise longue, the book – still pleasantly hovering in the air thanks to Al’s tentacle arms – following us suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opening of 'Fear of Flying' is _legendary_ : Isadora, our main character, is on an airplane with her husband, a psychoanalyst… and like 116 _other_ psychoanalysts, of which six have actually _treated her before,_ because she has this huge, irrational fear of flying. Amazing.  
> Isadora’s fear of flying is a symbolic thing as well, since she is also afraid of freeing herself from the suffocating demands society seems to make on women: find a man, marry that man, have his babies and be an obedient wife to him. During the story, Isadora not only decides to run away with another guy, but you’ll also find out she’s struggling with the aforementioned old-fashioned (but back in the 1970s still _very_ common) ideas, comparing the feelings she gets from them to being held captive in a prison or even a terrorist attack (later in the story, you’ll discover she has a very good reason to). Eventually though, Isadora learns to not only accept herself and her body, but also the strange uncertainty that is the future.  
> Jong’s book is considered to be one of the most important books for feminism because of its positive display of female sexuality, and so _of course_ it got a lot of backlash. Some networks didn’t want to run TV-ads for it and Italy just straight up banned the book altogether.


	57. The Decameron (Giovanni Boccaccio)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Alastor talk about some fairytales. Charlie (kind of) asks Alastor the question he couldn't ask her, for whatever reason. Then they go welcome the hotel's newest resident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, then.
> 
> The final chapter.
> 
> This is it, but at the same time, it's _not_ it - there's still an epilogue and a bibliography waiting for you.   
> And for the sake of this story, I heavily, **heavily** recommend you to read that epilogue, too, if you want some definite answers to your questions.  
>  _All_ of them. I'm just saying.
> 
> But anyway…  
> I'd like to thank all of you.^^ All of the readers who have been with me on this wild ride, starting from December (you remember December, when everything was still relatively normal in the world? Well I do) to this day in May.  
> I'm… _insanely_ happy with all of you. I mean, I... never expected this fanfic to get all the attention it's been getting! I'm not a very striking or notable individual, I'm not used to much attention, and I... well, I'm just so very thankful for all of you!^^  
> It doesn't matter if you have been here with me from the start or if you only started reading this fic last week - I'm incredibly glad you found this fic, and that you decided to give it a chance.
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. I owe you one.  
> And that's why I'm happy to tell you that there _will_ be a sequel to this story, when things have gotten less stressful for me.  
> I mean, I think I have to? You'll find out later what I mean with that...
> 
> Shout-out to the wonderful [Charlotte](https://twitter.com/Loonette3) who drew some stunning watercolor [fanart](https://twitter.com/Loonette3/status/1261126759153569799) of chapter 52. I was actually shocked to see just how awfully painful it looks - and I love the colors, the style, the feelings… I just love it!^^  
> And another shout-out to [Mika](https://twitter.com/mikkiaru__) and [this](https://twitter.com/mikkiaru__/status/1249007222786420736) lovely drawing she made a while ago. Mostly thanks that, the final two chapters went a bit differently than I had originally planned them to go. Curse Mika and her wonderful talent! *shakes fists to the sky*  
> (not really though I adore her)
> 
> Of course, I'm also grateful for all the other fanart I've received over the past few months! Thank you wonderful artists soooo much, that you would actually sit down and make something _amazing_ , based on my seemingly endless ramblings. My heart skipped a beat each and every time somebody honored me with yet another beautiful piece of art, and you should see my smile right now, even as I'm talking about it.^^ I'm just so thankful! Gah!
> 
> Alright, then I guess it's time for the chapter! Read it, enjoy it, let me know what you thought about it (if you feel like it, naturally) and  
>  **do NOT skip the epilogue.**
> 
> *waves*

I’ll just say it now: the giant brown _brick_ I had gotten out of that one bookcase was a fairytale book. 

Not just _any_ fairytale book, mind you – it was one with breathtakingly beautiful drawings, nice, curly words written in silver and gold ink and a sturdy hardcover that made it easier for the reader to hold. The work of art probably weighed about _5 kilograms_ though, so no way it was a piece of literature you should put on your lap for a couple of hours. 

I mean – that bulky thing was _heavy!_

Therefore, I let Al keep it in the air as the two of us cuddled back together on the chaise longue, me shamelessly wriggling myself in-between Alastor’s twiggy legs to get more comfortable. Al let me – even though it did take him quite some klutzy leg-shifting-minutes before he himself was content with our position. He still had some trouble concerning on what to do with his hands, however, and let them flounder on the couch’s seating awkwardly, until I simply grabbed them and folded them around my waist without saying anything about it. I even patted them afterwards, like I wanted to say that _there’s_ where they were supposed to be, and yes, just hold me like this, Al.

I heard Alastor chuckle – and then his body finally relaxed against mine, as he, for a little while, watched me turn page after page in the big book floating in front of us in silence. 

“You _know_ this storybook, don’t you,” he eventually commented, as he became aware I was looking for a specific fairytale. “Have you actually read it before?”

“Hmm – well, when I was still a child, my mom used to read me stories out of this book.”

“Amazing! I didn’t even know they already printed books back in the prehistoric era!”

“Huh? They _didn’t_ print books in that era.”

“Alright then.”

He kept on snickering and I admit I needed a couple of seconds to get what he was saying. But when I _did_ get it, I gasped _loudly._

“What the – you _ass!”_

“Well that took you long enough,” Al commented. “Must be the age catching up to you.”

“Oh my _GOD,_ Al!” I exclaimed and jabbed an offended elbow into his stomach. “I’m not _THAT_ old!”

In spite of having the air elbowed out of his body just now, he still laughed to his heart’s content, before moving my hair aside and planting a swift kiss in the nape of my neck. 

“Ah, I apologize, my love, I apologize – you’re as young as the beautiful youthful woman you feel! Now, you were saying…?”

“No. You’re a _jerk._ Take a hike, _jerk,”_ I huffed, puffing my cheeks and putting my arms over one another.

However, it didn’t take Al that long to make it extremely hard for me to hold back my giggles, as he kept on planting teasing kisses in my neck and playfully pinched my sides as well.

“That’s it, my love – that sounds a lot better,” he chuckled as I finally cracked and started laughing out loud, wiggling around uncontrollably, “and it’s also nice to know you’re ticklish. I’ll keep that in mind!”

“Alright – _fine,_ I’ll tell you – just _stop it_ already!” I wheezed, clasping his hands tightly and keeping a firm hold on them.

He _did_ stop, but not before pressing a last, _slightly_ aggressive kiss against the side of my hot face. I gulped and hummed weirdly to that, kindly reminding myself that now was not the time to get turned on by his antics – and so, I cleared my throat and tried to focus on the book again. 

“As – as I was saying, before you _rudely_ interrupted me, my mother used to read me fairytale stories right before I went to sleep. I really liked them, for the most part. Although I… didn’t enjoy hearing the really bloody and messed-up parts of them all that much, to be honest.”

Alastor made an agreeing sound. “Oh yes, fairytales are surprisingly violent. I absolutely _adored_ them when I was still a boy! I _especially_ liked the ones in which the villains got what they deserved in the _worst_ kind of way. Like in the tale of Cinderella, my personal favorite! Sliced-off heels and toes, shoes filled with blood and an evil stepmother that had to dance herself to death, wearing _burning shoes_ , while Cinderella and her husband looked on – during Cinderella’s _wedding party_ , nonetheless! What a hoot _that_ ceremony must have been!”

“Jesus _Christ,”_ I shivered, while Al cackled in amusement. “No wonder mom only wanted me to check it out once the Disney version came out.”

“What about _you,_ hmm?” Al leaned his head on my shoulder. “What fairytale did you like the most? Ha, I daresay it’s a cute and endearing story about a bunch of miserable misfits reaching their ultimate happiness in the end, like ‘The Ugly Duckling’ or ‘The Town Musicians of Bremen’…”

“It’s something like that – but more _tragic,”_ I said, while I flipped through the book once again. 

“Tragic?” Al sounded surprised. “But you prefer stories with _happy_ endings, do you not?”

“Hey, a bittersweet ending is also a happy ending… I think.” I had reached the right page and tapped a finger on the mermaid drawing next to the actual fairytale, to show him what I meant. “Here it is – ‘The Little Mermaid’! You know it?”

“Naturally,” he said, his voice having a disapproving tone. “Such a bizarre ending. The foolish girl refused to kill her rival in order to get the Prince’s love and got changed into sea foam in return. All that suffering, all that hard work and pain she went through… all for nothing. And she didn’t even get to die in a horrible way – just in an incredible _vague_ one.”

“That’s not true.” I smiled, running my fingers over the mermaid’s serene face. “She got what she wanted.”

“Do elaborate,” Al said.

“Well – it’s true, isn’t it? She wanted her Prince to find happiness – and he _did_ find it. He just… didn’t find it with _her.”_

Alastor didn’t react to that. I heard him inhale, like he wanted to comment on that… but then he exhaled again and simply gripped me a bit firmer.

“It was a very noble thing of her to do,” I carried on, turning a few more pages to watch the pastel drawings change a happy-looking mermaid into a quiet human girl and then, ultimately, into soft, greenish sea foam. “The little mermaid sacrificed her own happiness for that of the Prince – and _that_ was, in the end, the thing that made her the happiest of all.”

Al still didn’t say a word.

I gave him a gentle nudge. “Don’t you understand, Al? _His_ happiness was _her_ happiness all along. Isn’t that _beautiful?”_

“I suppose,” he mumbled, hugging me from behind. 

His response made me blink in confusion. Somehow, talking about this tale had made him remarkable quiet and even _somber,_ for some reason. Maybe Al didn’t like bittersweet endings? Whatever it was, it seemed to bring him down – and so, I decided to start about something else – something that had been on my mind, ever since Alastor almost got that panic attack a little while ago.

I mentally gave myself a little push – and opened my mouth again.

“B-by the way, don’t you think it’s a little _weird_ that all those fairytales have the main couple marry each other _right_ of the bat, as soon as the hero has saved the fair maiden? They don’t even get the chance to get to know each other and be boyfriend and girlfriend for a little while first. I always found that very strange.”

“Why is that strange?” Alastor, sounding normal again thankfully, responded with a scoff. “I think that whole… _boyfriend-girlfriend_ -business that’s ‘hip’ these days is strange. And _humiliating,_ in a way. For example, I’m a full-grown _man._ I don’t like being called a… _boyfriend,_ like I’m a… _boy.”_

I had expected him to say that much and started winding the red bookmark cord around my fingers. 

“So… going through a boyfriend-girlfriend-phase is just weird to you. Is that it?”

“For the most part, yes. Once you know and _feel_ a certain person is the one and _only_ one for you, why waste time by calling them your ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ or, yes, even _‘lover’_ for a needlessly long time, when you can simply marry them and call them your husband or wife instead? Fairytale characters at the very least didn’t waste time on all that. After all, you knew they’d get their happily ever after.” 

“Hm-hm,” I mumbled – and then I _snapped_ the cord out of the book. It was an old cord, so it readily let loose. Once I had it, I tugged it in two, so that I now had two, almost equally long pieces of cord.

Alastor let out a startled (and maybe even _offended)_ gasp. “Charlie – why did you _do_ that?”

“Take it easy, Al, I didn’t tear out a page – it’s – it’s basically just a string.”

He must have heard the unusual croak in my voice. _“Is_ it, though?”

“No.” I inhaled and exhaled once more. “Hold up your hand for me.”

I felt him squirm behind me uneasily. “Why?” 

“Just do it, Al. Trust me.”

At first, I was afraid he wouldn’t do it – too little information, too much uncertainty – but then, one of his hands let go of my waist anyway, and he slowly raised it. Soon, his black-and-red hand was right in front of me. His fingers were sharp, long and creepy-looking – but they were also a lot more slender than I had imagined them to be. 

Good thing I had asked him to do this, then.

“Like this?” Al wanted to know.

I nodded. “Like that. Now hold still.”

Alastor, having no idea what in the world I was doing at first, obeyed and didn’t move at all while I carefully bound one of the pieces of strings around his ring finger. I got a bit distracted by a small, silvery-white cross on the back of Al’s hand, right in the middle of it. It really stood out, now that I looked at it.

“You have a scar on your _hand_ as well, Al?”

“My dear, I have more scars on my body than there are stars in the night sky.”

“This one looks pretty new though.”

“What does it matter?” He sighed, sounding a bit agitated. “Charlie, _seriously_ – what are you doing? Shouldn’t we get ready to leave already? The new tenant can be here any moment now.” 

“Just a minute.” I finished winding the red cord around his ring finger and smiled. “There!”

“How quaint,” Alastor sarcastically said, holding his hand a bit higher so that he could look at it as well. “I have a stringy _hoop_ around my finger. Oh happy days. Are we going to play some sort of game?”

I pulled his hand back down and held it within mine. “It isn’t a _hoop,_ Al.”

“Well, then what _is—”_

“I need to know your ring finger’s size.”

Before Alastor could give any kind of reply to that, I suddenly pulled in my legs, spun around until I was face-to-face with him and instantly hooked my legs together behind him, jerking his body against mine. When I looked up to him, I saw his face had kind of frozen in this flabbergasted, speechless half-grin, his eyes big and alarmed. Behind me, I heard the large fairytale book fall onto the floor with a distinct _smack._

I decided to just… continue with what I was doing and took hold of his – now comically floppy – hand once more, smiling shyly as I fidgeted with the cord, looping it around his ring finger again. But instead of once, I did it trice or even four times now, so that it couldn’t let go easily as I put a small knot into it.

“It’s a reservation.” I glanced up at him once more. “I’m… I’m reserving your ring finger, Al.”

“Charlie, you shouldn’t—” he started – but I put a finger on my lips and raised it, till it pressed against his own, shutting him up.

“N-now,” I stuttered, blushing furiously and gripping his hand, “I know this isn’t a fairytale and we’re not sure of _anything_ yet, but… but things _are_ going well between us. And… and I’m glad to inform you that out of all the people – men, women, sinners and demons – I have dated before, you are the _single one_ that made me give up on trying to redeem them. Not per se because you’re just too evil or unredeemable, but because I just – I just selfishly _want you_ to _stay here_. With _me._ F-forever. So, uhm… c-congratulations! That’s a first, ha ha…”

“Charlie, I—” he said again, when I tried to remove my finger – so I instantly pushed it right back against his mouth, shaking my head.

“Look, I-I _know,_ alright? I know it’s… _way_ too early for these kinds of thoughts – and I know how hard it still is for _you,_ too, experiencing love and everything that comes with it. I’m aware that you need more time, because _I_ need more time as well. That’s why this _isn’t…_ what you probably believe it is, Alastor. It’s just a _reservation._ A reservation I will come back for – y-you know, later.”

I carefully pulled back my hand a bit – and when Al kept quiet, I smiled gratefully at him and touched his face with the tips of my fingers.

“If the two of us keep it up for the following couple of months… say, five or six or so, that seems more than enough… I’ll ask you if it’s alright for me to… to replace that cord with something… s-something else. You can’t go walking around with some weird piece of cord stuck on your finger for the rest of your afterlife, after all, th-that’s just silly…”

I laughed clumsily, averted my eyes from his face and kept grasping and hugging his fingers with my own, with the hand that was still holding his. I wanted to tell Al more – like that after all those months had successfully passed, I’d firstly need _the thing_ to be made, so I would need the cord and his finger’s measures for that, and then he would get it back as soon as I had given the right people the task of making _the thing_ , and maybe I should also let him know that he could just roll the cord off his finger if he didn’t feel like accepting this reservation of mine at any time, since I didn’t want to pressure him…

…but then something wet dripped down on our connected hands – and that’s what made me look up in bewilderment. 

Alastor’s face _still_ was stuck in that same hilarious, perplexed expression – but now there were actual tears coming out of his eyes. And not just a few – oh no, they literally _streamed_ down his face, like he had opened the all floodgates.

“Oh _Al,”_ I muttered softly.

“What?” He blinked and only now seemed to realize I was looking directly at him. “What? Is there something on my face? Are you…” 

He lifted up a hand and touched his wet cheeks, blinking even quicker, letting out a strange, choked-up kind of laugh. 

“Well how about _that._ My eyes seem to be losing liquid for some reason. How annoying!”

“That’s called crying, Al. You’re crying.”

“No.”

“Yes you are. You _know_ you are.” I chuckled, pulled up my sleeve a bit and attempted to wipe his face. He caught my hand before I could touch him, though, and harshly clenched it in-between his pointy fingers.

“Ow.”

“Where is that other piece of cord?”

I grimaced – he was kind of hurting me with his rigid, sharp claws – but then I let go of his other hand and showed him the other half of the bookmark. Alastor wasted no time in gawking at it and took it from my hand. His hand that was digging its nails into the back of my own, finally lessened its painful vice grip and let my hand rest on his. I could feel my cheeks warming up in sweet delight when he bowed his head and, as delicately as he could with those odd, spindly fingers of his, started putting the other half of the cord around my own ring finger.

“Allow me to… to _also..._ hum.”

“O-okay,” I mumbled.

Alastor had some trouble with tying the cord around my finger, though. His hands were pretty big and misshapen in comparison to my own, smaller ones… and the fact that he was shaking like a leaf was pretty inconvenient as well. I didn’t mind though and smiled, silently pressing my forehead against his, not saying anything about the teardrops that kept falling down.

“Your… your fingers are _frustratingly_ thin.” He sniveled, his voice cracking. “This could take a while.”

“That’s alright.” I kindly rubbed our foreheads together. “Take your time, darling.”

Since I had called him ‘darling’ again, it took Al even _longer_ before his quivering hands could fasten the red cord around my finger. 

But he succeeded in the end. He kept his head down afterwards, tenaciously _refusing_ to raise it up and let me see him shed the tears he had no control over (even though it really was a little too late for that). I decided not to give any smartass comments about that, either, and simply took hold of his wet face, tilting it up a bit and muffling any kinds of protests that could fall from his stubborn lips with a loving kiss.

In response, Alastor’s body solidified – but then he instinctively kissed me back, once, twice, and he swiftly pulled me into a needy hug. He wrapped his arms and legs around me and buried his face in my neck, as if he wanted to hide there. I let him, closed my eyes and wound my arms around him as well.

As he kept trying to suppress his sobs, I tenderly ran my hand over the back of his head and nuzzled his shoulder. Maybe it was just me, but he sounded… _sad._

_Heartbroken,_ even. 

But no – that would be ridiculous. 

Still… just to be sure… 

“Are… are we on the same page, Alastor?” I whispered, massaging his scalp. “I mean, we must be, right – we’ve placed the same bookmark at the same spot. Right? R-right? Get it?”

He unwillingly snorted at the incredibly cheesiness of the remark – I felt he did – and he nodded. I let out a trembling breath of relieve, laughed and embraced him just a tad tighter.

To be continued.

For _sure.  
  
_

  
**CcC  
  
**

  
Naturally, all that happened in the library hadn’t been very useful in terms of trying to follow a strict schedule – and by the time Al and I finally were ready to go downstairs and welcome the hotel’s newest residents, it was half past one. Vaggie had already given me a couple of angry calls, yelling at us during the current phone call (in increasingly more colorful and vibrant words) about how she would personally come and strangle the life out of Alastor if ‘that disgusting piece of shitheaded shit’ had the guts to keep me to himself any longer. 

“The lady should start writing poetry,” Al mused with an entertained grin, as I panicked and told Vaggie over the phone that yes, I was coming downstairs, I was coming downstairs _right now_ , and yes, I was decent, I still wore all of my clothes.

 _“I – wow. I didn’t even_ ask _that,”_ Vaggie dryly commented. _“But good to know you and that asshat still have_ some _dignity left.”_

“Oh ho, _dignity?”_ Alastor snatched the phone from me. “We can’t have _that,_ now! Let us return to the library and _passionately_ declare our sweet love for one another on the chaise longue, Charlie! Post-haste!” 

Vaggie made a weird sound, as if she both gasped and smelled something _really_ disgusting. _“Alastor, I swear to fucking—”_

“And that’s quite enough of _that!”_ Alastor said, cackling happily as he _hung up_ on Vaggie and let me steal my phone back from him.

“Jesus, Al – Vaggie’s going to murder you one day…” I mumbled, hastily pocketing my phone. “Come on, we need to get to the entrance hall right away!”

“Oh but that’s _simple!”_ Al said, taking me by my arm, firmly squishing me against him. “Leave it to me, darling!” 

He snapped with his fingers. Within seconds, a thick dark, reddish cloud emerged out of nowhere and engulfed the both of us, blocking everything from my sight – and when it began to dissolve again, I noticed to my amazement we actually were at the entrance hall. Much to my delight, I spotted the front desk, Husk, Angel Dust and even the new tenant, from the back. 

“O-oh wow, that’s nifty!” I said.

“Yea?” Niffty replied, appearing from behind Al with her trusty little feather duster.

“Oh – no, I was talking about – never mind,” I said.

Alastor simply _shoved_ Niffty aside with his microphone stand (not _too_ unkindly, but still) and took my hand, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss on the back of it. He looked up from me from that position, smiling expectantly. 

“At your service, my darling betrothed.”

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets and I uttered a weird, giggly yelp. My face _instantly_ grew red-hot at the casually-spoken term of endearment and holy _shit,_ I was sure I would discover some major _burns_ on my cheeks later today, because it can’t be healthy to blush so _hard_ in such a short span of time, it’s just… it’s just not possible. 

As Al kept on looking at me (with that damn _smug_ face, like he hadn’t broken down in the library at _all_ just a little while ago, that _jerk),_ I opened my mouth to say something in return – but then Vaggie grabbed me by my shoulder, _slapped_ Alastor’s hand away from me and dragged me off to the front desk in the hallway, where Husk and Angel Dust were (still) loitering around as well. I could hear Al laughing out loud behind us.

“Always a pleasure to see you too, my dear!”

“Go _drop off a cliff and die again_ ,” Vaggie icily snapped at him. “God _dammit_.” 

Vaggie was still hissing in-between gritted teeth as she quite literally put me on the chair behind the desk and arranged the needed papers, pens, stamps and what-not in front of me. It must have been a rather impressive sight, because all this time, the new resident didn’t say a word and simply… _observed_ Vaggie’s frenzied preparations in silent wonder. 

“Just leave it to that fucking psycho dipshit to distract you long enough to get you late for taking in our new client,” my friend grumbled. “You _know_ this is something only you can do, Charlie! You’re our hotel’s _face!_ You can’t expect me to put _those_ grisly mugs over there in charge!” 

She pointed at Husk and Angel Dust, who both gracefully accepted the insult and shrugged – which caused Husk to spontaneously lose his balance and fall down onto the ground. The poor cat demon still wasn’t used to his tail-less life, or so it seemed…

As Angel Dust burst out in a bordering on hysterical fit of laughter (while an embarrassed Husk started swearing and hurling things at the bendy spider demon), I quickly drummed my fingers on the desk’s hard surface, to get the new resident to pay attention to, well, _me,_ and _not_ to the two sinners who were now pretty much having a fistfight on the ground.

“H-hi!” I exclaimed, my voice a bit too high to my liking, and stroke some of my hair out of my eyes. “Um… welcome to my Happy Hotel, _the_ place to be when you want to try and aim for the biggest accomplishment one could _ever_ strive for: redeeming yourself by atoning for your sins and then, eventually, ascending to Heaven!” 

“I can see that,” the new client said, watching as Angel Dust tried to threaten Husk with a courgette (…a _courgette?)._ “You have a very specific group of sinners right here.” 

I laughed uncomfortably. “I-I know, right!”

He rolled with his eyes at that. The sinner had a very distinguished look to himself, for some reason – in spite of the rather weak state he seemed to be in. I couldn’t quite tell what kind of demon/sinner he was supposed to be – most of the time, sinners had some sort of animal motive going on – but judging by the broken and bare-boned wings on his back and the sharp glint in his otherwise lifeless eyes, I supposed he was meant to be a bird or insect demon of some sorts. Maybe a special kind of butterfly?

“Are you okay?” I heard myself blurting out.

The sinner gave me a surprised look, without saying something.

“Well – it’s just – you seem a bit… uhh, beaten up.” I grinned sheepishly. “Oh – I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable – you don’t have to tell me what happened, if you don’t want to!”

“I indeed do _not_ want to,” the person sternly said. “But I thank you for your concern nevertheless.”

“Uh. Sure!” I glanced at Vaggie (who simply put up her thumbs) then at Al (who just stood there on the sidelines, watching me and the new client with what must have been one of the most ominous grins I had ever seen on his face). 

“A-anyway,” I said, raising from my chair a bit and reaching out my hand to him – the one with the red cord, “before we’ll carry on with all the other boring, yet practical _and_ needed procedures in order to make your stay with us official, let me introduce myself to you. I’m Charlie Magne, the hotel’s founder, manager—”

“And the Princess of Hell,” the newcomer darkly said, slowly reaching out a bruised hand to meet mine. “I wish I could say it is a pleasure to meet you. Oh well. Hello, Miss Magne.”

“Hello,” I said, a bit weirded out by the stranger. “And… who are you, if I may ask?”

The sinner, who had been looking at Alastor, looked back at me with a numb, emotionless expression, before his cold hand let go of mine.

He sighed, exasperated. 

“You can call me Bob.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you: the oldest book of all the chapter titles! ‘The Decameron’ was published around 1350(!) and it was written by the frivolous Boccaccio, who was very fond of Greek philology (‘decameron’ means something like ‘ten-day event’ in Greek). It refers to the period of time in which the characters of his book tell their stories.  
> ‘The Decameron’ is a collection of tales – and these stories are told by the ten narrators of the story: Panfilo, Neifile, Filomena, Dioneo, Flammetta, Emilia, Filostrato, Lauretta, Elissa and Pampinea. These seven women and three men have fled their plague-ridden hometown of Florence and since they have nothing better to do to spend their quarantine time while waiting for the plague to pass, they decide that each one of them tells a story each night. The storyteller of the night is charged as King or Queen for one of the ten days in turn – and they all have certain rules and themes to keep themselves to, as the nights pass by…  
> A member of the Carthusian Order threatened Boccaccio would get send straight down to Hell if he wouldn’t destroy this ‘despicable’ book… but that didn’t impress Boccaccio much. Because of the erotic nature of most of its tales, this book has gotten altered, banned, burned and censored many, many times throughout the ages – and so of _course_ I’ve got it in my own personal collection.


	58. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakim's story.

**The first day.  
  
**

I did not wake up because I had replenished my energy. 

I woke up because the hard, cold floor I was laying on was getting unbearably painful for my bruised, battered and beaten body.

While uttering a gasping groan, I tried to stand up – only to bump my aching head against what seemed to be a wooden ceiling, right above of me. I hissed, gripped my head and finally, opened my eyes. It did not matter. There was darkness all around me. Nothing but the darkest, most depressing and unsettling black that surrounded me. 

Where was I?

How did I come here?

What had happened? 

I could faintly recall I had been waiting for that Radio Demon in Hyde Park. Then, without any hint or warning, something had violently attacked me, made me plummet to the ground, and the next thing I knew – was _this._ Waking up in this… cellar, I believed it was?

A cold, eerie cellar holding no warmth, no light and no sound.

I swallowed, feeling my body run cold as I could suddenly taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth. This was not good. Wherever I was – this was not a place one should wish to be. This was a place you wished to stay away from. A place I needed to _get away_ from, fast, as fast as I could.

With a lot of effort, I managed to sit upright, and upon feeling my head bonk against the ‘ceiling’ once more, plus the hard sensation of steel bars instantly pressing against my hurting back, I realized that I was trapped. 

Trapped inside a very small cage. Hardly big enough for me to sit upright in. And that same cage seemed to be located in what felt to be not a simple cellar, but a freezing cold dungeon.

Although I already knew it would be fruitless, I tried to gather what was left of my angelic powers to get me out of this awful predicament – but alas, to no avail. I was too weak, my powers had left my body long before I had even begun waking up. I was at the mercy of whoever was keeping me captive in this horrible prison cell.

Panic started to take control over me. I was cold. I was hungry. I was scared. I did not know what would happen to me. I did not know if I would ever see my own kind again. Would I even still get to see the light of day, or is this how I would end my life – cooped up in a tiny _crate,_ alone, crawling around in what seemed to be my own dried up blood and tattered plumage?

The situation became intolerable for me, the longer I sat there, and before I knew it, I heard my shaking voice calling out for help.  
  
“Please – please somebody help me. Please. Please get me out of here. _Please!”_

I continued crying out like that for hours. Even when my already sore throat was starting to burn, I kept desperately pleading to someone – _somebody_ – to please come and save me from this hellish place.

And then, nothing short of a miracle appeared to happen.

Suddenly, right when I was about to give up, I heard the creaking of an opening door and saw a yellowish beam of light fall upon the cage I was trapped in. On all fours – I had no other choice – I made my way to the other side of my prison, pressing my swollen face against the bars and looking up, to where the light was coming from.

I saw the shape of a female, now unhurriedly descending a flight of stairs.

“Oh my, you unfortunate _soul,_ you! Is everything alright with you?”

My hands trembled uncontrollably when I heard such a surprisingly _kind_ utterance of words, after having experienced all that fearsome loneliness down a forgotten dungeon, and I hoarsely answered her, without thinking twice. 

“No – no, I am most certainly _not_ fine, madam. Would you please help me out?” 

“But of _course,_ pumpkin! Still, I have to ask – who are you and how did you end up in my basement?”

“I’m… I’m not sure, madam.”

“That’s alright, you can think about it! I have the time! I have all the time in the _world,_ dearie!” 

She laughed heartily and sounded gracious and pleasant – but she never sped up her pace.

I should have known something was not right. I should have kept my guard up and I should have kept quiet. That would have been best, if I had just _kept quiet_.

But the joy of another living and breathing being in the same room as I was, was too much for me. It blurred my head and my possible suspicions about this woman, and I found myself telling her about all that I knew, except for how I had ended up in that cage. Perhaps I had vaguely hoped the woman in return would tell me what she knew about all of this?

As the woman halfheartedly tinkered with the door of the cage I was in, I told her about the meeting I was supposed to have with a sinner, who allegedly was ready to get himself redeemed. I told her about the King and Queen, and how they had convinced the King’s Holy Brethren to send down an Angel to test the sinner – and to pass judgement on him. I told her what I meant with ‘judgement’. 

I told her _everything._

The woman – a tall, elegant female with short hair and pitch-black eyes, wearing a long, violet dress and holding a strange sort of cane – kept asking me… strange questions. Questions about the role of the King and Queen in all of this, about my own opinions on the matter of testing sinners in order to see if they are suitable for Heaven, about – oh, _so many things_. And I answered _all._

A pure Angel cannot lie. We can refuse to acknowledge certain questions, yes – but I was not well at the time the woman asked me all of these questions and I found myself replying truthfully to all of them, the answers easily rolling out of my mouth.

“Well aren’t you just _**adorable,”**_ the lady chuckled, after I had responded to her final inquiry – and then her long, thin fingers enclosed themselves painfully hard around my upper arm, dragging me out of the cage. “You spilled the beans like a desperate, lonely mutt, looking for some affection. And _you_ thought it would be _hard_ to get this Angel to talk!”

I strongly inhaled through my nose to prevent myself from screaming in pain as the woman’s vile nails sank into my skin. I noticed the cane she had with her _wasn’t_ a cane – but a red microphone stand. And it _laughed._

_“Now now, my dear Rosie! Don’t tell me you did expect the Angel to readily tell you everything right from the get-go!”_

“Never underestimate the charms of a woman, you cunning man – or the effects sheer isolation can have on one’s mental well-being.” The lady smiled wickedly. “By the way, Alastor, if you heard all of that, think you can come down now?”  
  
“Naturally! Our guest has finally stopped his boorish yelling, after all – and I wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun you seem to be having.”

I heard faint footsteps approaching the room from above, followed by those same footsteps, now briskly making their way down the stone stairs. Someone hummed some kind of tune. Still fighting the urge to cry out, I gritted my teeth and turned my head to try and see who was coming our way. I could not see much, though, since the room was still only faintly visible thanks to that single light source, shining into the underbuilding from the opened doorway up above the ground.

A humorless, abnormal laugh rang through the air as the figure came closer and closer.

“Rosie, be a peach and illuminate this basement for me, please. I’d like to see our visitor.”

“Certainly,” the woman said, and with a prompt snap of her fingers, the room suddenly got brighter. Not all that much, though. Only old, partly burned candles appeared to be present in the damp basement… but the weak light they provided was enough for me to take a good look at my surroundings.

What I saw made my heart sink deeply into my stomach.

Torture instruments from the Dark Ages were neatly arranged against the block-shaped, gray stone walls, or casually placed around the room’s vicinity. I recognized an iron chair, that still had the black, burned bits of its former victim tainting the seating. Thumbscrews on a steel desk with unrecognizable pieces sticking out of it. A wooden frame, slightly raised from the ground – it was a rack, supposedly, looking foul and bloody. 

That was not all. There was a breaking wheel in here as well. A head crusher. A wooden donkey. An iron maiden. Iron shackles hanging from the walls and the ceiling. Different kinds of knives, axes, scissors and other sharp and potentially deadly utensils. Rats scavenging around for food.

And in the middle of all of this, two sinners stood, side by side, looking down on me with apathetic eyes and condescending smirks. A male and a female.

The female was not elegant nor gracious to me anymore. Now that I could actually see her, I felt foreboding shivers run over my spine upon noting her ashen skin, hollow-looking eyes, and wide, sickening grin, spreading from one side of her face to the other one in an unnatural way. Almost as if it was too big for her rather small, delicate face.

But she was _nothing_ in comparison to the downright _terrifying_ creature next to her, now leaning on his microphone stand.

He was a thing one could only meet in nightmares. 

A slim man, standing up straight, completely dressed in red, somewhat damaged clothes. The dignified look of the clothing he wore did not distract anybody from the blatantly clear _insanity_ of its wearer – nor from the incredible power he seemed to radiate. Strange, red symbols danced around him, like materialized bad omens, and I could not look too long at them before feeling a suffocating, painful pressure in my chest. There was an unknown, crackling noise coming from him which sounded like someone was searching for a radio station, only ten times _louder,_ and it disrupted my thoughts and pathetic attempts to calm down. His bizarre hair was an unsettling combination of red and black, there seemed to be antlers sticking out of his head and his _face._

Oh his _face,_ if you could even call it a face. I had never seen something like that before. 

Like that of his female ally, his skin was grayish of color. The half-lidded eyes of the man were large and mismatched – one of his eyes was brown and looked almost human, while the other one was a deep, blood red: the pupil, the sclera, the lid of his right eye… _all_ of it – _red._ They seemed to be fully focused on me, only me, while he flashed his yellow, razor-sharp teeth at me in an outstretched, overbearing crack that easily surpassed the one of the woman in terms of pure madness.

“Who…” I heard myself croak out.

The demon grinned even broader and snatched my hand with his. I winced when I felt his fingers were more like daggers, instantly piercing my hand as he strengthened his grip.

“Alastor, my good fellow – the name’s Alastor. The sinner you were supposed to meet? Pleasure to be meeting you!”

I gasped for breath as his fingers continued to mercilessly bore themselves into my hand’s skin.

“Now,” he said, his voice strangely upbeat as he forcefully pulled me up to my feet, “it’s alright, you don’t need to tell me your name! After all, it was established by Hell’s King your name is Hakim, isn’t it? Such a _nice_ name for such a _plain_ -looking Angel! You must feel very special for getting a name like that!”

“In all fairness, he looks more like a Bob to me,” the woman commented.

As the two of them cackled again, my overworked mind slowly started to connect the dots.

“It… it was a trap, was it not?”

“ **I could ask you the same, Hakim!** ” The man – Alastor – stopped laughing at the drop of a hat and narrowed his ugly eyes at me, before shrugging. “Ah, well. You probably weren’t even aware of it, you poor sap. But as for your question – yes. I suppose you could say it was.”

I gaped up at him, my eyes bulging. _“You_ were the one who did this to me? You attacked me in the park and locked me up in here?”

“Well I admit I had a little help from Husker. Without him, I doubt I could have taken you out _this_ easily.” He glanced at the woman next to him. “I suppose he must have gone back to the hotel quite some hours ago, now, right? It’s almost morning already, after all.”

She waved his comment away dismissively. “I honestly couldn’t care less about that dirty cat – all I want are those _feathers,_ Alastor. The angelic feathers you promised me.”

Angelic feathers – I peeked over my shoulders, at my ragged, mauled wings, that I was unable to move without going through the most horrible pains. Like most Angel wings, mine were the purest of white, even in their current unimpressive state, and blood drained from my face when I realized why I was in this basement, with all the torture devices, and with this crazy woman. She kept ogling my wings like they were the greatest gift she had ever received. Her tongue even flicked in and out of her mouth repeatedly, like she had set her sights on a great _feast._

“No,” I said, my whimpering barely reaching the tone of that of a whisper, “you – you cannot _do_ that. You cannot commit the _atrocious_ sin of—”

“Of _what?_ Plucking an Angel’s wings, like a _chicken?”_ The woman laughed cynically. “Or else – what? You’ll send me to _Hell?_ Well guess what, pumpkin – you already _are!”_

Alastor hummed and finally let go of me, unceremoniously dropping me on the ground like a piece of trash. My hand instantly started to bleed and I cringed, pulling the hand to my chest.

“I think it’s only _normal_ to let my good friend here have your outlandish fringes, Hakim,” I heard him say. “After all, she _did_ nurse you back to health when you were on the verge of death!”

The good friend – Rosie – scoffed, but seemed flattered nevertheless. “Well if _you_ hadn’t given him such a brutal beat down, Alastor, I didn’t _need_ to save him from the verge of death. Good thing I followed that recommended first-aid cursus last June.”

“We all make mistakes,” the other demon simply shrugged. “At least he survived – _that’s_ what counts.”

So they needed me alive.

Of all the thoughts that were swarming my throbbing head right now, _this_ was the single one that stood out to me. _Whatever_ it was that was going on, they would not kill me. They needed me to be alive, for some reason – and so, I would _not_ have to fear for my life.

I silently looked up from the stone ground. The two sinners were talking to each other now, about how Alastor should return to the hotel as well and about how Rosie would keep an eye on me and promised him she would only start dissecting my wings when she was sure I would _survive_ such a complicated procedure. Alastor – standing with his back turned towards me – laughed maniacally as he told Rosie how _hilarious_ it would be if ‘that so-called super being of an Angel’ would make it through all of this, only to succumb to some ‘light feather plucking’ later on.

His mocking filled me with an unexpected amount of seething _rage_ that seemed to come out of nowhere. My fears and injuries were momentarily forgotten as I fixed my eyes on the back of that _unforgivable_ sinner, _foolishly_ turned away from me. I concentrated on my wounded hands, screwing my eyes shut and focusing all my attention on my weakened, but still lingering powers. 

Maybe doing this would be my death sentence anyway, I realized as I felt a few warm rays of light appearing in the palms of my hands – but I could not _stand_ this evil creature’s poisonous words any longer.

Miraculously, I managed to quietly create five Heavenly spears – and with their help, I struggled to get myself to sit upright. I raised both of my hands, that held all of the spears. It was heavy and it hurt – but I could handle it. At this moment, I could handle it all. 

I took a deep, trembling breath, aimed for the back in front of me – and _threw_ my Heavenly tools towards the sinner clad in red, as _hard_ as I could, with every single drop of energy I had left inside of me.

I knew I hit my target when I heard an earsplitting, strangled howl of anguish – and that was all the confirmation I needed, before I allowed myself to simply give in to the black curtains that swiftly pulled themselves over my eyes.

If they changed their minds and decided to kill me after this, then let them kill me.

I had done what I could.  
  
  


**The second to the fourteenth day.**   
  
  


They did _not_ kill me.

They kept me alive. 

And with ‘they’, I meant Rosie.

In the days that went by, she patched me up yet again, healed and dressed my wounds, made sure I was fed and hydrated and regularly checked up on me in her torture basement. She even began talking about her impressive emporium upstairs, about the many, plumage-involving ideas she had for it and about how _happy_ she was to be the one in charge of the business. She mentioned a name a couple of times – Frank, I believe? – and whatever had happened to him, Rosie was absolutely _ecstatic_ that it had happened to him. 

This probably sounds like this was not such an ordeal for me and that the lady was starting seeing the error of her ways by taking care of me and having nice conversations with me – but do not be fooled. It was _nothing_ like that. 

Rosie treated my wounds – but _not_ as much as that I could regain my powers again.   
She was not taking care of me – she was taking care of her precious _feathers._   
She did not talk with me – she held entire monologues about whatever that was on her selfish mind and did _not_ appreciate it when I tried to critique her on it.  
  
She broke my wings on day five of my imprisonment and when I came to, she instantly started plucking them. 

She put shackles on my wrists and hoisted me up against the rough walls of her basement, my face pressed against the rectangular stones. She made it so that I had to balance on the tips of my toes in order to lighten the burden on my arms, and while I grinded my teeth and did my best to keep myself from dislocating my own limbs, Rosie would take one of those torture instruments on her desk, grab a stool and began pulling out my feathers.

One by one.

She took her time, because she wanted to be absolutely _sure_ the tufts she got from my wings were of the highest quality. She never stopped _yapping_ during those times, never _ever,_ and since she discouraged me from ever talking back to her, I stopped talking altogether.

From that moment on, every day was the same.

Wake up. Eat something. Drink something. Get dragged out of the cage. Get hoisted up against the wall. Try not to lose my mind while Rosie plucked my wings bare and never _shut up_ about whatever stupid thing she wanted to ramble about. Get my wounds and wings treated afterwards. Get pushed back into the cage. Eat something. Drink something. Sleep.

Unlike my wings, my spirit broke a little bit each and every day that passed like that, for the following week or two. 

The only thing that kept me somewhat sane and made me feel _proud_ was the fact that I had, at the very least, done what I was supposed to do when I was send down from Up Above: I had judged and taken out the sinner Alastor. 

I indeed believed him to be dead. I did not see him appear at Rosie’s place during the mind-numbing time of period I underwent her tortures. And apart from some grumpy comments from Rosie, begrudgingly cleaning up the gruesome blood splatters I had pained the floor of her basement with the day after I had gored him, she never spoke a word about him.  
  
That was just how things worked in Hell, I theorized. These sinners had no _empathy,_ not even for the people they saw as their friends. Rosie had probably sighed in annoyance when her friend’s lifeless corpse was bleeding out on the ground and had later ditched his remains somewhere in a shady alleyway outside. 

I… was not sure what the plan with me was _now,_ now that Alastor was gone. He had appeared to be the mastermind behind my abduction and I had hoped that Rosie would eventually lose interest in me and perhaps even let me go…

…but that was not the case. 

On day twelve, Rosie informed me that she was planning to pluck both of my wings bare, then patently wait for their feathers to grow back again, and then she’d collect them once more. Or maybe even _twice_ more. Or…

“Rinse and repeat, pumpkin,” she once told me with a gleeful smile on her hideous face, prying loose a stubborn feather of my right wing, “rinse and repeat!” 

And she would keep this up, if it was up to her, as long as possible. 

Or until she got bored of my feathers. 

So yes. My wish would come true. She indeed _would_ eventually lose her interest in me.

And then I would die.

After realizing my fate had been sealed once I had killed Alastor, I stopped displaying any kind of emotion and let Rosie do to my wings whatever she wanted to. That did not make my situation better – but I could continue to live. Somewhat. Even though I realized my life would ultimately end here in Hell, by the hands of the woman that had both saved me and driven me into the deepest pits of despair I had ever seen.

There wouldn’t come help for me. As a plain Angel working for the Archangels Gabriel and Jeremiel, I had _known_ what the risks of my job were if I failed to get out of Hell safely during an official assignment. Nobody would come down from Heaven to look for me. I would die a martyr, yes, and everybody in Paradise would praise me for my courage, if they even took the time to remind themselves who Angel No. 9918233423645242537 was again… but that was it.

I would face my depressing doom with _dignity,_ however.

I did not feel fear for the Void.

I did not feel anything anymore.  
  
  


**The fifteenth day.**   
  
  


And then Alastor suddenly reappeared in the basement.

“Good afternoon, my good fellow! It’s about time you and me had a little talk.”

If I still had full-functioning emotions at that point, I would have been completely _shell-shocked_ to see the supposed-to-be-dead-sinner unlocking my small and uncomfortable prison cell. 

But I simply crawled out of the cage and stared at him with empty eyes. Not even the bitter realization that the bastard had _survived_ five spears to the back could invoke the slightest bit of emotion within me, and I just kept on looking at him. He said – things, I’m sure, but I could barely concentrate on what he said. I got too distracted by my own senses, telling me Alastor had a positive _aura_ around him – an aura you did not expect a sinner condemned to rot away in Hell to have.

I could not quite put my finger on it, on that _niceness_ he seemed to be surrounded with, but that did not matter right now. What _did_ matter was that I realized there was an actual _chance_ for me to get out of this literal hellhole, now that Alastor was here. And that was all it took to ignite the smallest sparks of hope in my listless heart.

_He needed me alive._

For the first time in days, I opened my dry, cracked lips and produced words.

“What do you want from me, Alastor?”

I interrupted him mid-sentence – and certainly, the mildly-annoyed look on his face he shot me right after would have scared me senseless two weeks ago. 

But I already was senseless. And I could not care less about angering him. 

I had been stuffed away in a small crate of a cage, been forced to sleep in the worst positions and conditions, been hung up and stretched out, been both mentally as well as physically tortured. 

I had seen all the layers of Hell already, so what more could he do to me?

Alastor, who most likely seemed to realize it would be useless to try and strike fear into my uncaring heart, began to smile once more, folded an arm on his back and gestured with the other one to Rosie’s steel desk.

“Why don’t we take a seat, Hakim?”

“A seat,” I repeated. “I can take a seat?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to discuss some things with you, my professionally-plucked friend.”

I could feel the tiniest pang of anger shoot through me – which actually was good. I was not dead inside yet. I could still understand what was supposed to hurt me or make me upset.   
  
So I wobbled over to the desk, sat my aching body down on an unsteady stool and waited for the deer demon that had been responsible for all of my grievances to do the same.

“Well,” Alastor started, “let’s just get right down to business. First things first – Hakim, do you have _any_ idea why I didn’t kill you two weeks ago?”

Before I answered him, I studied his relaxed composure and faint smile. He liked to be in control of things, I could tell.

“How was it,” I then said.

He blinked. “How was what?”

“Getting those spears in your back when you were stupid enough to turn your back on me.” I looked him straight in the eyes. “How was _that_ like?”

I had expected him to lose a bit of his relaxed demeanor, but the red sinner simply smiled and leaned more towards me, resting his chin on a claw-shaped hand. 

“Ah, yes – I still need to thank you for that! I was afraid you’d be too terrified to do anything at _all_ when I gave you the perfect opportunity to attack me two weeks ago, but fortunately, you let your emotions get the better of you and speared me anyway. I’m glad you did! It would have been quite troublesome to explain to the people back at the hotel why I had returned from our meeting while looking like my old demonic self, _without_ having any injuries to prove I had been attacked as well.”

My face stiffened. “You needed an alibi.”

“Indeed.”

“Still. I could have killed you.”

He laughed a bit, embarrassed. “Ahh, yes, I admit that I had underestimated your powers. I believed you wouldn’t be _that_ deadly anymore, since you were so very _weak_ back then… but that weaponry of yours hit me harder than I had thought it would. I’m not ashamed to tell you that I, too, fought for my life for a couple of hours – and I most likely would have perished if I hadn’t been given the best help there was. I still lived to tell, though – and all of that _absolutely_ was worth it in the end. You lived, I lived, we both win. I have no regrets whatsoever!”

He laughed, while I tried to understand what this insane man’s game was.

“I cannot comprehend you,” I ultimately decided. “At all.”

“Of course you can’t,” Alastor sniggered, halting his laughter. “But you _will_ comprehend me, after I have told you about the _grandiose_ plan that has been cooking up inside my head, for the last few… oh, weeks, maybe even months?”  
  
I raised my head up high. “I’m listening.”

And Alastor began to explain.

It all started a while ago. Alastor had wanted to help out Princess Charlotte by thinking of a way to increase the possibilities of redemption – and he had found out that encouraging sinners to read books was a simple and easy way of redeeming at least a small part of them. As soon as the sinners started reading out of their own accord, a few of them really _did_ experience some literal shapeshifting – and Alastor, bizarrely enough, got the most changes of them all. 

“I didn’t understand why that was either, but if gave me quite a fright, especially since it happened on the day after I had…”

He paused for a moment – then carried on, but I could tell he had skipped a little.

“Anyway – the Princess contacted with Lucifer that day, asking him if he knew what was going on. He told her all about what was needed before one could actually consider themselves ready for redemption, like having to meet up with an actual Angel. She shared that information with the hotel’s sinners later, and that was the moment I realized I needed an Angel to come down to Hell in order for my plan to succeed.”

He continued telling me that at _that_ point in time, his plan was still in its earliest development stage and that he had not expected to do anything with it yet – but when he met up with his associate Rosie, in order to fetch his glasses, King Lucifer had contacted him. 

And annoyed him.

And _inspired_ him – because while chatting with the former Archangel, he got the idea to _manipulate_ Lucifer into ‘fetching’ an Angel.

“By the bye, _please_ don’t blame our good Leader or his beloved wife for your unlucky situation,” Alastor grinned, “because they didn’t know a thing about my scheme – only Rosie did. In fact, taking your story into account and comparing it to the instructions he wrote _me,_ the King would _definitely_ have liked to see me die a horrible death. Things didn’t work out that way, however. And _boy_ was he upset about that, ha ha!” 

That surprised me. “Does King Lucifer know you survived?”

“I kindly let him know a couple of days ago.”

“But why are you still _alive_ then? Lucifer is the strongest being in Hell. I cannot imagine him fearing you, no matter how much of a despicable madman you are.”

“It’s not _me_ he fears, though.” Alastor chuckled. “Let’s just say I had (and still have) an ace up my sleeve that I played at _exactly_ the right time. At this moment, Lucifer knows he and Lilith are on thin ice and therefore can’t hurt me – and if they try to do so anyway, they’ll regret it forever.” 

I frowned, but somehow, did not question that. 

“How _did_ you manipulate the King, then? How did you get him to ask one of his Heavenly brethren to send down an angelic exterminator?”

“Why – I invited him for dinner at the hotel and kept on annoying and infuriating him, of course! The subject of Heaven and telling him I thought Heaven is uninteresting _especially_ riled the poor man up, haha. You can imagine the King’s anger as I sat there mocking Heaven. _Me,_ a lowly sinner that seemingly had great chances of getting into Heaven, but had no interest in Paradise at _all,_ while Lucifer himself knew he _couldn’t_ ever go back to his former home, no matter how much he’d want to. I think that hurt him – and I kind of regret going _that_ far, to be fair. But I _needed_ him to get mad at me. I _needed_ him to want to get rid of me, in a way that wouldn’t attract too much negative attention… and since I already seemed to be halfway to Heaven, against my _will,_ even, well – ‘getting rid of Alastor by Angel, one way or another’ probably seemed to be the most satisfactory and _spiteful_ method in Lucifer’s eyes.” 

“So disrespecting Heaven was what did it.”

“Well, I did something _else_ as well – just to put the final nail in the coffin.”

“What was that?”

“That is none of your business.” Alastor gave me fake, curt smile. “It _worked,_ however, and it wasn’t before too long a Royal letter from the palace came, instructing me on meeting you.”

I noticed the sinner was being evasive on certain topics and I decided to keep that in mind.

Meanwhile, Alastor kept bragging about how his plan seemed to go accordingly. 

“I felt incredibly accomplished when I realized my strategy was actually going to _succeed_ and it was hard to keep myself composed: the rest of the hotel didn’t know of the plan after all, and I wanted it to _stay_ that way... until I was in need for some assistance. Then I informed one of my comrades that wanted him to help me out. Firstly by guarding the library, to make sure nobody could enter that room and accidentally end up ‘redeeming’ even more parts of me, and later on by asking him to come along as well. Back then, I didn’t know what to expect of you yet and I took whatever the Royal letter had said about the meeting with a grain of salt. Therefore, to make sure we wouldn’t get the tables turned on us, we attacked you from behind.”

“Like a coward,” I spoke, my aloof voice having a venomous edge to it.

Alastor was not impressed and shot a nasty look at me. “Ha! The pot calling the kettle black! Didn’t you ‘courageously’ attack me in the back as well, Hakim?”

I did not have the energy to tell him how unfair it was to compare his evil plan and my desperation back then with one another.

“Yes, that’s what I thought.” Alastor snickered triumphantly. “On the day of the meeting, I went to Rosie, first. I had to tell her what was about to get down and that I needed her torture room and assistance in order for my plan to play out right. Since she had known about it all along, she was ready to help me out – in exchange for some Angel feathers. Then I let Husker know I was about to enter Hyde Park. He came as soon as Angel Dust had taken in his spot in front of the library, just in case (that was some clever thinking on Husker’s half), and… well, I suppose you know the rest!”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Unfortunately, I _do.”_

The deer demon put one of his lanky legs over the other one and sighed. “And there you have it, Hakim. My entire plan, in chronological order, more or less. Any questions?”

“Just one,” I said. _“Why?”_

“Oh!” His odd-colored eyelids flickered. “Haha – well, would you look at _that,_ all that talking, and I still haven’t told you _why_ I did all of this!”

“Tell me,” I insisted. 

“ **To get rid of Hell’s Princess and take over the Underworld, naturally.** ”

I studied the large, toothy grin he flashed at me. 

“Princess Charlotte Magne? The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith and the founder and manager of that… redemption hotel she is running?”

He nodded and brought a hand up to his face, rubbing his chin. 

“Lucifer and Lilith’s little darling is a fearsome, _powerful_ demoness. Of course she is – she has the blood of both an Archangel and a demonic succubus running through her veins. I’m pretty sure her powers are even more dangerous and imposing than her parents’. That means that if I, Alastor, the great Radio Demon, want to take over Hell… she needs to _go.”_

I did not react – I simply kept observing him.

Alastor kept talking: “You, as an Angel that can do examinations and have the power to decide who can come up to Heaven – _you_ can put her down to the test. See if she can pass it. Which she surely _can_ and _will.”_

“Why are you so sure of that?” I wanted to know.

“Because she is the most perfect being in existence and she belongs in a place that suits such a being.” 

He once again paused after that.

Then he hastily made his faltering grin a bit wider. 

“And – well – once that annoying blonde _nuisance_ is gone, I can finally take over Hell. It will all be mine! My own personal playground! Not even the King and Queen will be able to stop me then!”

As he began belting out another loud, screeching series of cackles and laughs, I saw something glittering in his hair. Then all I had to do was simply put one and one together.

“Does she smell like cotton linen, Alastor?” 

He almost choked in his own laughter and started to hack and cough. I felt the smallest hints of a smirk appearing on my cold face.

“It is _surrounding_ you,” I explained, while the red clad sinner wiped his mouth and eyed me suspiciously. “The smell of cotton linen. It is a very nice, _gentle_ scent – one could compare it to freshly-made beds.”

“I—”

I did not give him the chance to say anything. “This aura I have been sensing around you – it is _hers,_ is it not? Princess Charlotte’s. I suppose it must have been rubbing off on you, after being with her for such long periods of time. Holding her. Caressing her…”

I leaned forwards a bit, reached out a hand – and pulled a long, blonde strand of hair out of his own red-and-black mess. 

“… _loving_ her, perhaps?”

Alastor’s eyes grew bigger upon comprehending what had happened, but he did not answer my question. He seemed to think hard about what to say in response to me – but, for once, he could not find the words. He just looked amusingly _frustrated._  
  
“My Lord.” I even found myself snorting a bit, since this turned out to be funnier than I thought. “You do not _fear_ her. You _love_ her.”

And judging on the fact I spotted more blonde hair-locks hidden within his own, I could conclude that the feeling most likely _was very much_ mutual. 

How _bizarre._

He opened his mouth – but I instantly cut him off, since I had an inkling of what he was planning to do.

“No – it is no use, Alastor. You gave your feelings for her away ever since you started talking about your ridiculous plan to get your ‘blonde nuisance’ to Heaven. Not because of some exaggerated scheme – I do not believe your dumb claim of wanting to take over Hell – but because you want the _best_ for her.”

Alastor closed his mouth again.

Since he had lost his confidence a bit by being called out like that, my own increased – and I found myself straightening my back.

“A _noble_ cause. I am willing to believe there is a good reason why you still have that one brown eye left. There is a part of you that could be worth saving – and I am sure it was not only the _reading_ that made your appearance change.”

“Are you saying that _falling in love_ saved me from my own doom? I’m sorry – I didn’t realize I was talking to some naïve _child.”_ Alastor scoffed, grinning sarcastically. “Well. I suppose it’s nice to know that there’s still some hope for me left!”

“Hope – for _you?”_ I glared at him with zero compassion. “There is no hope for _you._ I have seen what kind of man you are. You are a cruel, terrible _mortal_ that will mindlessly put others through a world of hurt and suffering if it means you will get what you want. Your intentions were relatively pure this time, yes – but one good deed does _not_ make you a good _person._ I absolutely _despise_ you. I dare to say Princess Charlotte does not even know about what you have been doing behind her back, _does she_?”  
  
There was an obvious hint of guilt and regret appearing on his face – even if it was just for a fleeting moment. It faded within the blink of an eye, his smile standing strong once again right after – but I had seen it. And now, I knew.

The Princess was his Achilles heel. 

“You should be more honest to your lover,” I said. “She is not a toy you can freely play around with.”

“I _know_ she’s not a toy.” Oh, was that actual _anger_ I heard in his voice? “And I’m not the only one who thinks she belongs in Heaven – this is something _she_ wants, as well. She _wants_ to go to Heaven. She told me so.”

“Then you should have discussed this with her.”

“You can’t ask of a captain to leave their sinking ship first.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind.” Alastor rolled with his eyes, clearly annoyed with something – I was not sure if it was me. 

A silence fell in-between us. In this quiet peace, I faintly wondered how all of this would work out for me in the end – while Alastor folded his thin, long fingers together and almost – _almost_ – frowned.

“You see,” he then spoke up again, and I looked up, “At first, I was wondering if I could actually _do_ it. If I could meet up with you and fight you, without giving in to my natural instincts and simply obliterating you. I hadn’t killed in quite a while when the King and Queen’s letter arrived, after all. The thrill of maybe having another murder victim to look forward to was oh so very _exciting!”_

He did not know if he could have kept me _alive?_ What a lunatic. If I had still been the same Angel I was before I got in this mess, I would have felt _terrified._

However, I was not. 

So I did not say anything and kept my facial expression neutral. He looked like he was not done talking yet. 

“But Charlie – blissfully oblivious – helped me out here… by actually making me _promise_ her I would spare you.” The manic glint in his mismatched eyes lessened. “The strangest thing was – as soon as she had said it, I _already_ vowed to keep that promise. I had to act like I needed some time to think about it, but… that was all it took. _One_ promise to her, and I didn’t feel like killing you or _anybody_ anymore. On the contrary – I felt like doing all that I could to keep you _alive.”_

“Lovely,” I monotonously said. “Charlie – I take it you mean Princess Charlotte?”

“She prefers being called Charlie, yes.” A kinder, more affectionate smile suddenly appeared around his lips. “She’s so _clever._ She _knows_ I’m hiding something from her. I could tell she didn’t fully believe the story I told her about you and Lucifer, even though I did the best I could to stick to the facts. She has lost most of her faith in her parents, after all. She’s bound to dig up some dirt, sooner or later…”

“Then it _surprises_ me she did not try to figure out what Angels are capable of doing to a sinner,” I said. “If she is so distrusting of the King and Queen, why did she accept what they wrote in that letter? Why did she not want to find more information about Angels and go after you when you left that day?”

He grinned weakly. “Ah – I took some precautions for that, to be honest. I knew just as much as Charlie about Angels when I left the hotel that day, and in order to prevent Charlie from looking up more information about them, resulting in her maybe coming after me, I disrupted all of the technology in the hotel, just to be sure. Thankfully, she hasn’t asked me or the others about _that_ yet. That reminds me though – I still need to make up a story with Husker and Angel Dust about the malfunctioning internets and phone signals…”

“Hmm,” I hummed, not interested.

“So!” 

Alastor suddenly snapped out of his thoughtful state and sprung up from his stool. Beaming, he bent towards me from the waist up, like a cutting knife, and got so uncomfortably close to me that I nearly fell from my own stool in my pressing and single most need to stay _away_ from him. Emotionless or not – I did _not_ want him to touch me.

“So _what?”_ I responded.

“So, now that you know about my reason of capturing you – and how _noble_ that reason actually is, let’s not forget about _that!_ – are you going to do it?” He cracked his neck to the side, his sole red eye lighting up creepily. “Are you going to question Charlie and grant her your much-needed permission to get into Heaven? _**Do we have a deal, Hakim?**_ ”

The combination of his lover’s scent and his own _unbearable_ unnerving presence was such an unholy mix of soft kindness with pure evil that it made me feel sick to the stomach. I therefore began to walk backwards.

“Why would I ever _accept_ your deal?”

“Easy!” 

Alastor laughed and kicked the low stool I had sat on to the side. It clattered to the floor and its noises – plus my own trauma – almost made me flinch. Still, I did not even screw my eyes shut when the demon man backed me up against the dirty walls of Rosie’s torture room. The air around him began to take alien black and red shapes as loud, unsettling radio static droned through the room like a thoroughly demolished siren that, _somehow,_ was still functioning. 

“If you refuse,” he said in a tone that was now unrecognizable low and ominous, pressing his crazed face almost against mine, “ **I’ll leave you here to your wretched fate.** ”

Unwanted memories of sleeping on a solid floor, stumbling around on my toes while hanging from the walls, Rosie yanking my feathers out with a random torturing device and her complaining about her neighbor’s hell hound for the umpteenth time flashed before my eyes – and I almost instantly knew that this was _not_ the option I would want to take. Especially because I knew it would also mean a certain death.

“Oh, and other than _that,”_ Alastor continued, him sounding disturbingly normal again and backing off a little bit, “if you choose to come with me, I will let you return to Heaven after you have validated the Princess.”

I stared at him. “Return to Heaven? I cannot return to Heaven as long as my wings have not completely healed themselves. Judging on the damage your friend did to me, this could take up to six months.”

“I know – Lucifer once told me. Angel wings need half a year to fully recover,” Alastor nodded.

I kept staring at him. 

“But that’s a-okay, my good friend! You can pretend to be a sinner and stay over at Charlie’s hotel until your feathers have grown back. Then, once you have seen what an actual Angel my Princess is after all those months, you can question her, get convinced about her goodness and leave, _right_ as you let her ascend to Heaven.”  
  
Alastor cocked up one eyebrow upon seeing my perplexed face. 

“Oh my. What is the matter, Hakim?” 

I refused to yield under his piercing eyes and took a deep breath. “I – you organized this well, Alastor. _Very_ well. You even knew about the wings and my helpless position, as long as my feathers are missing. But why – _why_ would you put that much effort into planning all of this, for the sake of _just one woman_?”

He clacked his tongue, turned around and walked away from the wall, folding his hands on his back.

“You have not met her yet.”

Much to my own disgust, I found myself getting increasingly more _curious_ about that Princess of his. The woman that had somehow successfully won over this sinful, deranged maniac’s heart and had even inspired him to go to great lengths for this _one_ good deed, namely bringing her to God’s Paradise. 

If she truthfully was as saintly as he made her out to be, I probably would not suffer too much from spending time in her hotel until my wings had healed. And in all honesty, _everything_ was better than staying behind in Rosie’s cursed basement. 

However.

I needed some time to think this over.

So that is what I told Alastor: to come back in a few days and ask me again.

He did not mind, he said. Though he seemed – _surprised,_ I suppose? Yes. He probably had assumed that his offer was a _godsend_ to me, a winning lottery ticket. That there was no way I would stay at this gloomy place any longer than was needed. Or he had thought that my miserable, almost broken mind would not put up much of a fight anymore, now that comfort and safety were around the corner.

But I was not broken yet. I still had some of my pride left. 

That hell spawn would **pay** for what he had done to me.

And I would hit him where it hurt him the **most.  
  
**

  
**The final day.**   
  


  
After a couple of days in which I prepared myself, Alastor stopped by Rosie’s place again, early in the morning. 

I could tell Rosie was not very happy with him – she had stopped being happy with him ever since it became clear to her she would soon lose her precious feather producer – but she accepted the fact her role was over with dignity and let me and her ally be.

And why would she not? In the end, she still had gotten what she wanted. During this last week, she had ruthlessly taken _all_ of my remaining feathers. She had plucked them hurriedly now – every bit of concern she had displayed for my wings before had apparently been thrown out of the window. Her deeds had been exceptionally _torturous,_ yes, but it did not faze me anymore.  
  
It was alright. It was okay. At the very least, I had now spend some extra time carefully thinking about what my next move should be. 

As my wounded body crawled out of the cage the Radio Demon had opened for me, I took some comfort in telling myself that I did not have to go back in there anymore. Then I turned to Alastor and told him I would take him up on his offer and move into his lover’s redemption hotel. 

The big grin that instantly beamed off his pale, eerie face could be best described as ‘delighted to a fault’. 

“That’s _great!”_ he said. “Well – I’ll ask Rosie to give a call to our lovely mothy receptionist before noon, so that Charlie’s informed about your impending visit. I’m sure she will want to meet you at the hotel right after her break time!”

“How nice,” I muttered, dusting off my tattered clothing. When I was done patting and wiping the humiliating rags hanging off my body, I noticed Alastor’s black-and-red hand, opened up before me. A sinister, green kind of magic oozed off of it and I took a step backwards, slowly raising my face to meet that of the sinner in front of me.

“Oh yes – how could I forget.” I gave him an awry look. “I still need to make a _deal_ with you, do I not?”

He smiled and nodded – both actions appearing a lot less bloodcurdling and almost _friendly_ than any other action he had done before. 

“Don’t take it personally,” he cheerfully started, “but you must understand that it could be quite _dangerous_ for me, Charlie or any of the hotel’s sinners to let an Angel stay over for half a year without taking some… preventive measures.”

“What kind of preventive measures are we talking about here?” I asked.

Alastor shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. Once you take my hand, you are merely automatically agreeing to be bound to the hotel for six months, starting from the moment you take a single step inside of it. You’ll also be unable to physically or indirectly hurt anybody in Hell until the moment you have returned to Heaven and you can’t ever tell anybody about the deal you and I made.”

“Huh. Should your deal not have included some kind of charm that forces me to pass judgement on Princess Charlotte, once the six months have passed?” I wanted to know. “How do you know I will keep my word?”

Alastor let out a chuckle. “Once you have met Charlie, I’m _sure_ you’ll keep your word. This remarkable half-Archangel, half-demoness is the best thing Hell has ever produced, and I trust that you, too, will be taken in by her. That is all.”  
  
While he talked, I feverishly rubbed the fingers of my right hand against the palm of that same hand. I managed to do this rather casually – the red deer demon had not seen the light that was starting to glow within my hand.

“You are reasonably remarkable as well,” I pointed out. “You must be one of the single sinners – _overlords_ even – I have ever met that is willing to go _this far_ for someone else.”

“Oh, well—”

“Are you _certain,_ though?” I stared icily at his face. “I am willing to believe you and think that the Princess might be the perfect candidate for Heaven, but you _do_ realize you will _lose_ her, once these six months have passed. Right?”

This question seemed to make him a bit wistful, I could tell from the way he started mindlessly spinning his microphone stand around.

He cleared his throat. “Love is a fickle thing, Hakim. At this moment, I love Charlie very much, but I _know_ myself. I’m sure that there _will_ come a day my affections for her will fade out, get annoying, become _dull_ – and then I’ll get bored. You might hate me _now,_ but you’ll hate me even _more_ once you see the terrible things I’m capable of doing while finding a way to entertain myself!”

“You want to protect her from you,” I summarized. “From the ‘you’ you will become once you fall out of love with her. Is that right?”

He nodded. 

“Alastor – do you even know how love _works?_ Do you not understand that love can, in fact, last an _eternity,_ if done _right?”_

“You don’t know me,” Alastor said.

“I do not,” I agreed, “but for someone who is convinced he will lose the love he holds for another, you sure are willing to sacrifice it _all_ – just to make her happy. Does her happiness mean _that_ much to you, Alastor? Even more than your _own?”_

“Her happiness is mine,” he easily said.

That was all I needed to know.

“Alright then.” I resolutely reached out a hand to him. “I will accept your offer, Radio Demon.”

For the slightest moment, it appeared Alastor was a bit suspicious of me – perhaps I had talked or moved too fast. But once he understood his sweetheart’s future in Heaven was just one handshake away, he took my hand and gripped it tightly.

The second our hands connected, I felt his dark magic shoot through my body. I screwed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth together. It was a particularly unpleasant feeling – the feeling of getting roped in an agreement I did not have any control over – but there was nothing I could do about it now.

Or _could_ I?

As soon as his curse had engulfed me, I heard him gasp in surprise when my hand lit up and squeezed his determinedly. I saw realization dawn on him and he tried to free his claw, but it was too late: the power I had built up in the past couple of days made its way over to his hand, into his blood vessels – and when I finally released him, there already was a white-hot scar appearing on the back of his hand.

Alastor stumbled back, took his wrist in his other hand and gazed upon the cross that now decorated his foul skin. He then looked up at me, quirking an eyebrow in a silent question. 

“It is sad,” I said, shaking my own hand to get rid of the odious feeling his had left in it. “You actually had potential, Alastor. You had a chance of ascending to Heaven. With the right motivations, you _would_ have been able to one day enter God’s Paradise.” 

He frowned. “I—”

“Or am I telling you something you _already know?_ Maybe you realized that much yourself. Maybe that was your tactic _all along_ : first get your darling lover into Heaven, and then, once she is up there, _finally_ get the motivation to at least _try_ and follow her, and grant her the ultimate wish she has: redeeming _all_ of her hotel’s sinners. Including _you.”_ I grimaced. “‘Love is a fickle thing’ – do not make me _laugh._ As if an egomaniac like _you_ would readily let go of love once you had grasped it. Your lies are wasted on me. Just like Heaven is wasted on you.” 

For a moment, Alastor looked appalled, like a criminal caught red-handed. It was not before too long his _infuriating_ smile returned, though. 

“ _Am_ I lying, though?”

I tried to pay no attention to his menacing comment and made a gesture to his new scar. “You see that mark, Alastor? It is the Mark of the Fallen. I believe Lucifer has a similar scar on his buttocks, when his Holy brethren kicked him out of Heaven. You know what that means, do you not?”

“Yes,” Alastor slowly said. “You’re basically trapping me in Hell.”

“Forever,” I nodded.

“And you’re ruining Charlie’s ultimate happiness.” He stared at me. “According to your own _wild_ theory, that is.”

I frowned. “You – did that _yourself.”_

“Really now? At least I had the courtesy to tell you about _my_ curse – and not drag other, _innocent_ people down with it.” Alastor stared at the mark for a little while further, before he ultimately simply _laughed_ at it and put both of his hands on his back, grinning calmly at me. “Ahh, well. Looks like I’ll be hanging around in Hell for a little while longer!”

Once again, the tables got turned on me, just because I could not comprehend him – him _or_ that fake, out-stretched mask he wore so well. 

I watched him, my shoulders sagging and my energy absolutely _drained,_ thanks to all these mind games.

“That is all you have to say?”

“Why yes.” Alastor seemed amused at my bewilderment. “You agreed to my terms and you will meet Charlie within now and a few hours. That’s just great! I can’t wait for you to arrive at the hotel. You will adore it, I’m sure. Nothing but useless and hopeless sinners and boorish demons, as far as the eye can reach!”

I wanted to say something – but the sinner suddenly was in a hurry to leave. He turned on his heels and began walking away from me. Before he started ascending the stairway up to the upper floor, he gave me one last, unreadable look.

“Now! I do advise you to leave this place as fast as possible, Hakim. Rosie appears to be a bit _testy_ – and I have to return to the hotel right now, so I can’t protect you from her silly habits any longer. I can _probably_ convince her to give Vaggie a call, but that’s about it. You will have to do your best to stay alive long enough in the forsaken streets of Hell for the following, say, two hours… but hey, at least you look just as seedy as all of us now. There’s nothing angelic about you anymore. You’ll manage! Probably!”

I slumped over to the stairs as well, ignoring my aching feet as well as my grievance. What use would it have to feel something I could not even showcase? No – I needed to keep a calm mind. 

“Oh? Are you not going to escort me through Hell?”

“Mm, I _did_ ponder about that,” his ridiculously peppy voice echoed through the basement, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once, “but then, you – _somehow_ – convinced me I shouldn’t spoil you too much. You can fend for yourself after all, as my hand found out the hard way.”

There was something _new_ in that peppy voice, I realized.

Something I had not heard before

The edge of his voice sounded raw. There was a sorrowful sensation that was dripping off of it – even more so _now,_ now that he, presumably, started to order his jumbling thoughts. Even his chaotic cackling and that last attempt to ‘punish’ me – by leaving me on my own to show me who was in control – did not distract me from that extreme, devastating emotion that seeped through everything that came out of his broad, deceiving mouth.

I stopped dragging myself up the stairway. Curious, I raised my face upwards.

“I broke your heart, did I not?” 

The sudden silence that followed was enough to be bordering of deafening. Up above, I could hear Alastor, holding in his breath.

“Oh do not worry, Alastor.” I took my time taking another few steps – carefully, very carefully. “You still have those six months. More than enough to let this suffocating heartache you are feeling grow even worse. Do whatever you want with her. Make her happy. Make her smile. Make her swear her undying love to you and only you. Then start preparing yourself for what will undeniably happen. _Try_ it. I promise you that it will tear whatever that is left of that wasted heart of yours to shreds. The pain and agony will start to fester, like an open, filthy wound. And I will be there to watch it – all of it.” 

There was no reply from Alastor’s side, but a door was all of a sudden slammed shut with a ferocious _bang,_ its slightly broken, wooden material helplessly shaking in its hinges afterwards.

It had sounded uncharacteristically _bitter._

 _Far_ too bitter.

Bitter enough to make me smile the smallest of smiles, as I struggled my way up the stairway.

Now... since I could not introduce myself as ‘Hakim’ to my new landlord, what name should I give myself, then? 

Oh well – I still had a few hours left of somehow making my way to Princess Charlotte’s hotel. I would think of something suitable. Surely I would be able to think of a better name than – say – _Bob_ before I had reached my destination!

…

What, though?

  
**\- End -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There _will_ be a sequel. Just so you know.^^


	59. Bibliography

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bibliography of all the literary works that either appear or are (in)directly mentioned in the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The books/works are listed in order of appearance.
> 
> I read most (but certainly not _all_ ) books that are listed here.  
> However, a (*) behind a book means that I exceptionally _enjoyed_ reading this work.^^  
> If you want to read some of the books I've mentioned during the story but you're not sure what books would suit you, at the very least give some of those (*) a try!

**Chapter 2:**  
Brave New World, Aldous Huxley (1932)

 **Chapter 3:**  
The Royal Game, Stefan Zweig (1943) *

 **Chapter 4:**  
Catch-22, Joseph Geller (1961) *

 **Chapter 5:**  
Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert (1857) *  
The Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri (1320) – _first book Alastor reads_  
The Harry Potter-series, J.K. Rowling (1997-2007) *  
The Twilight-series, Stephenie Meyer (2005-2008)

 **Chapter 6:**  
Les Liaisons Dangereuses, Choderlot de Laclos (1782) *

 **Chapter 7:**  
Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck (1937)  
The Vanishing, Tim Krabbé (1993) – _first book Charlie reads_

 **Chapter 8:**   
Henry & June, Anais Nin (1986)

 **Chapter 9:**  
Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut (1969)  
The Yellow Wallpaper, Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1892) – _second book(let) Charlie reads_ *

 **Chapter 10:**  
The Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie (1988)

 **Chapter 11:**  
The Sorrows of Young Werther, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1779)  
The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha, Miguel de Cervantes (1605 & 1615) *  
Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen (1813) – _third book Charlie reads _*

 **Chapter 12:**  
Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov (1955) *

 **Chapter 13:**  
The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Victor Hugo (1831)

 **Chapter 14:**  
Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky (1867)

 **Chapter 15:**  
Lady Chatterly’s Lover, D.H. Lawrence (1928)

 **Chapter 16:**  
All Quiet on the Western Front, E.M. Remarque (1929) *

 **Chapter 17:**  
1984, George Orwell (1949) *

 **Chapter 18:**  
Candide, Voltaire (1759)

 **Chapter 19:**  
Lord of the Flies, William Golding (1954) *  
Kiss of the Spider Woman, Manuel Puig (1976) – _book Angel Dust had to read_  
The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood (1985) – _book Vaggie had to read_ *

 **Chapter 20:**  
The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger (1951) *

 **Chapter 21:**  
The Color Purple, Alice Walker (1982) *  
Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë (1847) – _second book Alastor reads_ *

 **Chapter 22:**  
The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald (1925) *

 **Chapter 23:**  
The Call of the Wild, Jack London (1903)

 **Chapter 24:**  
James and the Giant Peach, Roald Dahl (1961)

 **Chapter 25:**  
To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee (1960) *

 **Chapter 26:**  
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde (1890)  
Walt Disney’s Comics and Stories (1940) *

 **Chapter 27:**  
Ulysses, James Joyce (1922)

 **Chapter 28:**  
The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini (2003)

 **Chapter 29:**   
Het Achterhuis / The Diary of a Young Girl, Anne Frank (1947)

 **Chapter 30:**  
The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath (1963)

 **Chapter 31:**  
Looking for Alaska, John Green (2005) *  
Faust, Johann Wolfgang Goethe (1808)  
We, Yevgeny Zamyatin (1920)  
Little Women, Louisa May Alcott (1868)  
Animal Farm, George Orwell (1945)  
Turtles All the Way Down, John Green (2017) – _book Niffty had to read_ *

 **Chapter 32:**  
The Awakening, Kate Chopin (1899)

 **Chapter 33:**  
Beloved, Toni Morrison (1987)

 **Chapter 34:**   
The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne (1850)

 **Chapter 35:**  
A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway (1929)

 **Chapter 36:**  
The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka (1915) *

 **Chapter 37:**  
As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner (1930)

 **Chapter 38:**  
Gulliver’s Travels, Jonathan Swift (1726)

 **Chapter 39:**  
Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh (1945)

 **Chapter 40:**  
All the King’s Men, Robert Penn Warren (1946)

 **Chapter 41:**  
Naked Lunch, William S. Burroughs (1959)

 **Chapter 42:**  
A Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess (1962)

 **Chapter 43:**  
An American Tragedy, Theodore Dreiser (1925)

 **Chapter 44:**  
A Separate Peace, John Knowles (1959)  
The Discovery of Heaven, Harry Mulisch (1992) – _third book Alastor reads_

**Chapter 45:**  
Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston (1937)

 **Chapter 46:**  
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Ken Kesey (1962)  
The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden, Jonas Jonasson (2013) – _fourth book Charlie reads_ *

 **Chapter 47:**  
Sophie’s Choice, William Styron (1979)  
Justine, Marquis de Sade (1791)

 **Chapter 48:**  
Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury (1953)

 **Chapter 49:**  
The Jungle, Upton Sinclair (1906)  
The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck (1939) – _book Husk had to read_

**Chapter 50:**  
The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky (1999) *

 **Chapter 51:**  
Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison (1952)

 **Chapter 52:**  
Tropic of Cancer, Henry Miller (1934)  
The Book Thief, Markus Zusak (2005)  
Vanity Fair, William Thackeray (1848)

 **Chapter 53:**  
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon (2003) *

 **Chapter 54:**  
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer (2005)

 **Chapter 55:**  
Death and the Maiden, Ariel Dorfman (1991)

 **Chapter 56:**  
Fear of Flying, Erica Jong (1973) *

 **Chapter 57:**  
The Decameron, Giovanni Boccaccio (1350)  
Cinderella, version of the Brothers Grimm (1819) *  
The Ugly Duckling, Hans Christian Anderson (1843) *  
The Town Musicians of Bremen, the Brothers Grimm (1819) *  
The Little Mermaid, Hans Christian Anderson (1837) *


End file.
